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Updated: June 9, 2025
Then she cried a little hysterically: "He never saw anything like that before. How he must laugh as he sits there in that room!" As if in reply, the hacking cough came faintly through the time-worn floor. "That cough's going to kill him, to kill him," she said.
'No; 'e ain't got much to say this morning; 'is cough's pretty bad. I can generally manage to get on orl right with anybody, you know, Easton added. 'Well, so can I as a rule, but I get a bit sick listening to that bloody fool. Accordin' to 'im, everything's wrong. One day it's religion, another it's politics, and the next it's something else.
"The man seems worn out, mind and body," was what the Doctor said; "the cough's bad, but there's nothing that can't be cured. He ought to go straight to bed, though and let him have a fire at night." "I'll make one in my room; it's the only one with a fireplace," said Mother. She did, and presently the Doctor helped the stranger to bed.
It's warmer than jumping out of bed every time. Bitter cold, isn't it?" "Freezing hard. I'm sorry your cough's worse." "Thank you. I don't mind cold so much. It's this wind that fair cuts me to pieces." He coughed again hard and hackingly, as an old lady came in for ammoniated quinine. "We've just run out of it in bottles, madam," said Mr.
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