The House by the Church-Yard

by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

And the woman cried—

'Oh, dear, bless us!'

Toole was stunned and agitated, and so with his hand on the clumsy banister he strode up the dark staircase, and round the little corner in the lobby, to Mrs. Nutter's door.

'Oh, Madam, 'twill all come right, be sure,' said Toole, uncomfortably, responding to a vehement and rambling appeal of poor Mrs. Nutter's.

'And do you really think it will? Oh, doctor, doctor, do you think it will? The last two or three nights and days—how many is it?—oh, my poor head—it seems like a month since he went away.'

'And where do you think he is? Do you think it's business?'

'Of course 'tis business, Ma'am.'

'And—and—oh, doctor!—you really think he's safe?'

'Of course, Madam, he's safe—what's to ail him?'

And Toole rummaged amongst the old medicine phials on the chimneypiece, turning their labels round and round, but neither seeing them nor thinking about them, and only muttering to himself with, I'm sorry to say, a curse here and there.