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Updated: June 23, 2025
He had also, I could see, been greatly influenced by Lalage. He told me, with insulting directness of speech, that there was nothing the matter with me. I could not remember the names of the diseases which McMeekin said I had or might develop. The nurse, who could have remembered them if she liked, would not.
"I am," I said, "perfectly well. Except for a slight cold in the head which makes me a bit stupid there's nothing the matter with me. I intend to get up at once and go out canvassing. Would you mind ringing the bell and asking for some hot water?" McMeekin rang the bell, muttering as he did so something about a temperature of 104 degrees. A redheaded maid with a freckled face answered the summons.
McMeekin himself took influenza. There was a time when I wished very much to hear that he was writhing in the grip of the disease. But those feelings had long passed away from my mind. I no longer wished any ill to McMeekin. I valued him highly as a medical attendant, and I particularly needed his skill just when he was snatched away from me, because my nurse was becoming restive.
"Very well," I said, "I'll have two best men. I don't see why I shouldn't. Who's the other?" "Lalage mentioned a Mr. Tithers." "Titherington is his name," I said, "and if I have him I don't see how I can very well leave out Vittie, O'Donoghue, and McMeekin. I don't know how you feel about the matter, but I rather object to being made a public show of with five best men."
"I'm quite ready to give a sovereign a bottle if necessary, and I'm sure that Titherington would, too. The point is that my nurse won't let me have any, and I don't suppose Titherington's wife will let him. That ass McMeekin insists on poisoning me with barley water, and Titherington's doctor, whoever he is, is most likely doing the same." "I see," said Lalage.
After that I felt easier, for I began to hope that I had thoroughly infected them both. My recollections of the next day are confused. Titherington and McMeekin were constantly passing in and out of the room and at some time or other a strange woman arrived who paid a deference which struck me as perfectly ridiculous to McMeekin. To me she made herself most offensive.
The red-haired girl with a freckled face came in, carrying a loathsome looking bowl and a spoon which I felt certain was filthy dirty. McMeekin took them from her hands and approached me. In spite of my absolutely sickening disgust, I felt with a ferocious joy that my opportunity had at last come. McMeekin tried to persuade me to eat some sticky yellow liquid out of the bowl. I refused, of course.
"Mothers are often disappointed," I said. "Look at Hilda's, for instance. And in any case my mother is a reasonable woman. She'll respect a doctor's certificate, and McMeekin will give me that if I ask him." The Canon had evidently not been attending to what Miss Pettigrew and I were saying to one another. He broke in rather abruptly: "Is there any other place more attractive than Brazil?"
The Archdeacon, as I recollected, already suspected me of intemperance. When he heard that I was drinking secretly and keeping a private supply of wine he would be greatly shocked and would probably feel that it was his duty to act firmly. He would, almost certainly, hold a consultation with McMeekin.
In the second place it's ridiculous to say that because one has to do a thing sometime one may as well do it at once. You have to be buried sometime, but you wouldn't like it if McMeekin told you that you might just as well be buried to-day." I hold that this was a perfectly sound argument which knocked the bottom out of McMeekin's absurd statement, but it did not convince the nurse.
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