ABSTRACT
Just two or three days after I had that lucky glimpse of you in Piccadilly. I had occasion to be at the General Post qffice. 'There is no such dangerous thoroughfare as St Martin Ie Grand in all London,' my Dr says; so I may be excused for having been flurried in crossing, to get to a Cab; and in such a hurry to find myself safe on the Pavement, that I struck the side of my foot violently against the curb-stone, and was plashed down on my left side on the pavement. I tried to gather myself up, but the agony I was in wouldnt let me. So I had to resign myself to become the Centre of Attraction to a small crowd and to be lifted by two Roughs and a Policeman, and put into a cab.Then there was five miles of jolting over the stones, not knowing whether my leg and arm were broken, or what I had done to myself; only that I was in such agony as I had never known before! Then there was the getting me into the House, and up to my bed, which was accomplished by the ingenuity of the Gentleman next door, impeded rather than assisted by Mr C, who was too nervous for anything! Then there was the Doctor-who found
After a fortnight I was lifted out of bed and set on end on a sofa in my bedroom, reminding myself of Miss Biffin! After another fortnight I was half-carried half-walked into the Drawing-room.And now, at the end of six weeks since the 'Accident,' I can walk accross the floor, by myself, with a stick.
