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Updated: May 20, 2025
Madehurst looked at me with narrowed eyes across the counter. "I dunno but it opens de 'eart like. Yes, it opens de 'eart. Dat's where losin' and bearin' comes so alike in de long run, we do say."
The Doctor was a man of some humour, for I remember he claimed my car under the Oath of AEsculapius, and used it and me without mercy. First we convoyed Mrs. Madehurst and the blind woman to wait by the sick bed till the nurse should come.
Yet in the villages the house doors were all open, and bare- legged, bare-headed children sat at ease on the damp doorsteps to shout "pip-pip" at the stranger. I made bold to call at the sweetmeat shop, where Mrs. Madehurst met me with a fat woman's hospitable tears. Jenny's child, she said, had died two days after the nun had come.
The blind woman heard and stepped forward. "What is it, Mrs. Madehurst?" she asked. The woman flung her apron over her head and literally grovelled in the dust, crying that her grandchild was sick to death, that the local doctor was away fishing, that Jenny the mother was at her wits end, and so forth, with repetitions and bellowings. "Where's the next nearest doctor?" I asked between paroxysms.
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