My right arm was tolerably restored; disfigured, but fairly serviceable.
On a Monday morning, when Herbert and I were at breakfast, I received the following letter from Wemmick by the post.
"Walworth.

Burn this as soon as read.

Early in the week, or say Wednesday, you might do what you know of, if you felt disposed to try it.

Now burn." When I had shown this to Herbert and had put it in the fire--but not before we had both got it by heart--we considered what to do.

For, of course my being disabled could now be no longer kept out of view.
"I have thought it over again and again," said Herbert, "and I think I know a better course than taking a Thames waterman.