Yet, methinks it might be done: by chloroforming them.
The spasms came at longer intervals and less violent, and Maxley got so fond of the essence of Insensibility, that he asked to have some in his own hand to apply at the first warning of the horrible pains.
Sampson said, “Any fool can complete the cure;” and, by way of practical comment, left him in Mr. Osmond's charge; but with an understanding that the treatment should not be varied; that no laudanum should be given; but, in due course, a stiff tumbler of brandy and water, or two. “If he gets drunk, all the better; a little intoxication weakens the body's memory of the pain it has endured, and so expedites the cure. Now off we go to th' other.”
“The body's memory!” said Mr. Osmond to himself: “what on earth does the quack mean?”
The driver de jure of the fly was not quite drunk enough to lose his horse and vehicle without missing them. He was on the look out for the robber, and as Alfred came round the corner full pelt, darted at the reins with a husky remonstrance, and Alfred cut into him with the whip: an angry explanation—a guinea—and behold the driver sitting behind complacent and nodding.
Arrived at Albion Villa, Alfred asked Sampson submissively if he might come in and see the wife cured.
“Why, of course,” said Sampson, not knowing the delicate position.
“Then ask me in before Mrs. Dodd,” murmured Alfred coaxingly.
“Oo, ay,” said the Doctor knowingly: “I see.”
Mrs. Maxley was in the dining-room: she had got well of herself, but was crying bitterly, and the ladies would not let her go home yet; they feared the worst and that some one would blurt it out to her.