‘Fever, and ague, and rheumatism, sir.’
‘Where?’ asked Lancelot, a little amused by the man’s laconic answers.
‘Wherever the white fog spreads, sir.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘Everywhere, sir.’
‘And when?’
‘Always, sir.’
Lancelot burst out laughing. The man looked up at him slowly and seriously.
‘You wouldn’t laugh, sir, if you’d seen much of the inside of these cottages round.’
‘Really,’ said Lancelot, ‘I was only laughing at our making such very short work of such a long and serious story. Do you mean that the unhealthiness of this country is wholly caused by the river?’