“It’s in that unopened letter. When the letter is opened you’ll see it effervesce like a seidlitz powder.”
“But suppose I am not here when the letter is opened?”
“You must be here-you must. You’ll stay now, if you please.”
“I’m afraid I can’t. I have patients waiting.” Kitty made an impetuous gesture of command. “There are two patients here who are at the crisis of their disease. You may be wanted to save a life any minute now.”
“I thought that with your prescription you were to be the AEsculapius.”
“No, I’m only going to save the reputation of AEsculapius by giving him a prescription got from a quack to give to a goose.”
“Come, come, no names. You are incorrigible. I believe you’d have your joke on your death-bed.”
“I should if you were there. I should die laughing,” Kitty retorted.
“There will be no death-bed for you, miss. You’ll be translated—no, that’s not right; no one could translate you.”
“God might—or a man I loved well enough not to marry him.”