“I am afraid you are a very foolish woman,” said the nurse quietly. “I can assure you that you are getting well fast.”
“Oh, yes, I know. And you are as bad as they are. It’s shameful!”
“You have been working yourself up to think you are being neglected, but your troubles are imaginary.”
“Oh, yes, I know,” cried the woman angrily.
“Pray try and be reasonable,” said the nurse, speaking in a voice full of patient resignation.
“Go on, pray, ma’am. You’ve all got me down here and are trampling on me. I’m unreasonable now, am I?”
“I am afraid you are a little,” said the nurse, smiling as she rearranged the bedclothes. “Mr Elthorne went away because he was worn out with attending the poor people here, and Sir Denton was telegraphed for to attend some unfortunate gentleman who had met with an accident.”
“Then he oughtn’t to have gone,” cried the woman loudly.
“Pray, hush,” said the nurse. “You are hurting yourself and upsetting the other patients.”
“And I say he’d no right to go. My life’s as much consequence as anybody else’s life, and it’s a shameful piece of neglect. Oh, if I do live to get away from this ’ateful place, I’ll let some of you know. I’m to be left to die because the doctors are too idle to come and see me. If I’d only known, you’d never caught me here.”