I only regret that I cannot remove the disappointment."
As they later walked to the station, the don said: "That is his
attitude toward all, even toward me. He is not 'Lewis Carroll' to any
one; is extremely sensitive on the point, and will not acknowledge his
identity. That is why he lives so much to himself. He is in daily
dread that some one will mention _Alice_ in his presence. Curious, but
there it is."
Edward Bok's next quest was to be even more disappointing; he was never
even to reach the presence of the person he sought. This was Florence
Nightingale, the Crimean nurse. Bok was desirous of securing her own
story of her experiences, but on every hand he found an unwillingness
even to take him to her house. "No use," said everybody. "She won't
see any one. Hates publicity and all that sort of thing, and shuns the
public." Nevertheless, the editor journeyed to the famous nurse's home
on South Street, in the West End of London, only to be told that "Miss
Nightingale never receives strangers."
"But I am not a stranger," insisted the editor.
Pages:
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218