I suppose it
really is the way I was brought up that makes me feel this so keenly,'
he explained.
Edith sat down to the writing-table. 'How bad is your influenza?'
'Oh, not very bad; because it would worry her: a slight attack.--Stop!
Not so very slight--we must let her think it's the ordinary kind, and
then she'll think it's catching and she won't come here for a few days,
and that will avoid our going into the matter in detail, which would be
better.'
'If she thinks it's catching, dear, she'll want Archie and Dilly, and
Miss Townsend and Nurse to go and stay with her in South Kensington,
and that will be quite an affair.'
'Right as usual; very thoughtful of you; you're a clever little woman
sometimes, Edith. Wait!'--he put up his hand with a gesture frequent
with him, like a policeman stopping the traffic at Hyde Park Corner.
'Wait!--leave out the influenza altogether, and just say I've caught a
slight chill.'
'Yes. Then she'll come over at once, and you'll have to go to bed.'
'My dear Edith,' said Bruce, 'you're over-anxious; I shall do nothing
of the kind. There's no need that I should be laid up for this. It's
not serious.'
He was beginning to believe in his own illness, as usual.
'Air! (I want to go round to the club)--tonic treatment!--that's the
thing!--that's often the very best thing for a chill--this sort of
chill.... Ah, that will do very nicely. Very neatly written.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70