“I have to stop by the clinic and see Carla,” Frieda said.
The hansom cab that had returned Howell and Asterson to Middlesport was now driving away. They found themselves standing in the middle of the fairly crowded town, burdened by their luggage.
“Probably for the best,” Zeke nodded. “We’ll need some of her cocaine wares if we want to experiment with the spinal anesthesia.”
“We could do the testing later today, if you’d like,” Frieda offered. They began walking in the direction Dr. Wilkins’ house.
“Carla won’t like it,” Zeke reminded her. He was grinning.
“Maybe she can facilitate the testing. It will keep her feeling included.”
Frieda and Zeke dropped their baggage on the front porch of the clinic. Zeke stretched his aching back. An hour spent on the most jolting carriage ride he’d ever experienced did nothing to help his physical state. His entire lumbar area was stiff and throbbin