Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XXIV. Grand Hótel
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
No, she must speak at once to Doctor Munthe
on very urgent business.
“The doctor is in bed, please go away.”
No, she must see him at once, “take in my
card.”
“The doctor is asleep, please. . . .”
Asleep, with that terrible voice screaming in
the hall, not I!
“What do you want?”
Anna had not time to hold her back, she lifted
the curtain to my room, a picture of health,
strong as a horse, Mrs. Charles W. Washington
Longfellow Perkins, Junior.
“What do you want?”
She wanted to know if there was any danger
of her catching diphtheria in the Grand Hôtel,
she had been given a room on the top floor, was
it true the boy had died on the first floor, she
must not run any risk.
“What is the number of your room?”
“Three hundred and thirty-five.”
“By all means stay where you are. It is the
cleanest room in the whole hotel, I have
disinfected it myself. It is the room the boy
died in.”
I sank back on the bed, through the bed it
seemed to me, the morphia set to work once more.
The front bell rang again. Again I heard the
same pitiless voice in the hall telling Anna she
had just remembered the other question she
had come to ask me, most important.
“The doctor is asleep.”
“Throw her downstairs,” I roared to Anna,
half her size.
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
