Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XXIII. More Doctors
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where his sister had sat. He told me he had the
misfortune to be Mrs. Jonathan’s brother. He
said he had arrived straight from Dundee the
evening before. He did not seem to have lost
his time. He had settled his accounts with
Doctor Pilkington by paying him one third of
his bill, he had kicked out Doctor Jones, he
now asked me for the address of a cheap lunatic
asylum. The doctor, he thought, ought to be
locked up in another place.
I told him that, unfortunately for him, his
sister’s case was not a case for a lunatic asylum.
He said that if she was not a case for a lunatic
asylum he did not know who was. The Reverend
Jonathan had died of old age and softening of
the brain over a year ago, she was not likely
to have been exposed to any further temptations,
the crazy old thing. She had already made
herself the laughing-stock of the whole of Dundee
in the same way she had now made herself the
laughing-stock of the whole of Rome. He said
he had had enough of her, he did not want to
have anything more to do with her. I said
neither did I, I had been surrounded by hysterical
females for fifteen years, I wanted a rest. The
only thing was to take her back to Dundee.
As to her doctor, I am sure he had acted to
the best of his ability. I understood he was a
retired Indian army doctor with limited
experience in hysteria. I believe what we called
“phantom tumour” was rarely met with in the
English army. It was not very rare with
hysterical women.
Did I know she had had the cheek to order
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