"Well, as to luck, that all a matter o' taste," said Mrs. Jupp; "we were talking about something quite different to that."
"What was it?" asked the doctor.
"'Bout Mrs. D'rinzy's health Harriet was asking," explained Mrs. Powler.
"A-h!" said the doctor, shaking his head, and looking very solemn.
"Is she so bad as all that?" asked Mrs. Jupp, who was visibly impressed by the medico's pantomime.
"Great sufferer, great sufferer!" said the little man, with a repetition of the head-shake.
"Well, but she gets about; comes down into t' village, and such-like," argued Mrs. Powler.
"Oh yes; no reason why she shouldn't; more she gets about, indeed, the better," said the doctor.
"It's innards, I suppose?" asked Mrs. Jupp, whose craving for particulars of Mrs. Derinzy's disorder was yet unsatisfied.
"Well, partially, partially," said the doctor, slowly rubbing the side of his nose with the handle of his riding-whip; "it's a complication, a mixture, which it would be difficult to get an unprofessional person to understand."