“Oh really,” she said in trembling tones. “He was an awfully nice man.”
“My word. Isn’t it a pity,” said Mrs. Bailey with tears in her eyes. “It worries me something shocking.”
“Oh well, if he was so stupid.”
“Well, you can’t blame him after what Mendizzable said.”
“You haven’t told me.”
“He said he’d only to raise his finger. Oh Lawk. Well there you are, now you’ve got it all.”
Mrs. Bailey must go. Mr. Mendizabal’s mind was a French novel. He’d said French thoughts in English to the doctors. They had believed. Even Canadian men can have French minds.
“Yes. Well I see it all now. Mr. Mendizabal’s vanity is his own affair.... I’m sure I hope they’ve all had an interesting summer. I’m awfully glad you’ve told me. It’s most interesting.”
“Well, I felt it was my duty to come up and tell you. I felt you ought to know.”
“Yes ... I’m awfully glad you’ve told me. It’s like, er, a storm in a teacup.”