Oh! a dozen things might account for it--the doctor's voice sounded
callous--the handling of flax, even of linen under certain
conditions. Chemicals entered so much nowadays into all sorts of
processes and preparations. All this new photography, cheap colour
printing, dyeing and cleaning, metal work. Might all be avoided by
providing rubber gloves. It ought to be made compulsory. The
doctor seemed inclined to hold forth. He interrupted him.
But could it be cured? Was there any hope?
Cured? Hope? Of course it could be cured. It was only local--the
effect being confined to the hands proved that. A poisoned
condition of the skin aggravated by general poverty of blood. Take
her away from it; let her have plenty of fresh air and careful diet,
using some such simple ointment or another as any local man, seeing
them, would prescribe; and in three or four months they would
recover.
He could hardly stay to thank the young doctor. He wanted to get
away by himself, to shout, to wave his arms, to leap. Had it been
possible he would have returned that very night. He cursed himself
for the fancifulness that had prevented his inquiring her address.
He could have sent a telegram. Rising at dawn, for he had not
attempted to sleep, he walked the ten miles to the nearest railway
station, and waited for the train.
Pages:
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237