I haven't the
smallest kind of a likeness of you. I want a nice big one, to use in my
advertisements. I only wish I had a picture of you 'as you were,' to
put beside the 'as you are.' It would be telling. 'The great Burns's
greatest cure. The celebrated Leaver of Baltimore as he was when Burns
finished with him.' I'll send you a dozen copies of the paper."
"Please, Dr. Leaver." Mrs. Red Pepper Burns added her plea. "Red really
wants it very much, and so do I. You admit you have no photograph to send
us, and we know quite well you won't go and have one made by Mr. Brant,
as you should. So please let Miss Ruston try her art. We think you owe it
to us."
Leaver looked at her, and his determined lips relaxed into a smile.
"I admit that argument tells, Mrs. Burns," he said. "I suppose it is
ungracious of me, but, to tell the truth, I've always preferred to be
able to say I had no portraits of myself."
"Oh, I see," Burns broke in. "We're not considering, Ellen, the urgent
demands for a popular bachelor surgeon's photograph. It's precisely like
Jack not to hand them out to the ladies, or to the newspaper men. All
right, old chap. Give us what we want and we'll have the plate smashed.
Now will you be good? Come, let's go over. If you really mean to leave
to-night this is our last chance."
The two men crossed the street, in the mellow September sunshine.
Pages:
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223