‘What was on the table?’
‘The usual things.’
‘Chops, chickens, vegetables, and so on?’
‘Yes; but don’t mention them—I can’t bear it.’
‘Are you tired of them?’
‘Oh, utterly. I wish I might never hear of them again.’
‘The mere sight of food offends you, does it?’
‘More, it revolts me.’
The doctor considered awhile, then got out a long menu and ran his eye slowly down it.
‘I think,’ said he, ‘that what you need to eat is—but here, choose for yourself.’