“Have you given her any medicine?”
“I gave her some lozenges, and Garnier brought her some sugar-candy.”
“Who is Garnier?”
“He is a painter.”
“Oh, one of these wretched rapins. Take my advice, Toto, and have a doctor in; he will cure her more quickly than if she were left alone.”
“I wanted to, but she implored me not. She has a horror of doctors and medicine.”
“Have you put poultices on her chest?”
“Mercy, no!”
“You ought to poultice her. I frequently suffer from colds in the early spring, and Mme. Plon declares that I would not be alive but for her poultices. It will cut it short. Have you a bronchitis kettle?”
“No; she hasn’t got bronchitis; she has only got a cough and a pain in the side.”