Explore "Number Three, Winifred Place" by Agnes Giberne on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"THAT'S over! " said the Colonel, with an air of relief, when the bandaging was complete. The setting of the dislocated shoulder he had borne in a manner worthy of his profession; and though rather yellow-white still about the lips with pain, he was disposed to self-congratulation. "I see you inherit your father's fingers."
"A good inheritance," responded Mr. Wynne. "You will have to take things quietly for a few days."