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XXIII
MORE DOCTORS
One day there appeared in my consulting
room a lady in deep mourning with a
letter of introduction from the English chaplain.
She was of decidedly mature age, of very
voluminous dimensions, arrayed in loose flying
garments of a very unusual cut. Seating herself
with great precaution on the sofa she said she
was a stranger in Rome. The death of the
Reverend Jonathan, her lamented husband, had
left her alone and unprotected in the world.
The Reverend Jonathan had been everything to
her, husband, father, lover, friend. . . .
I looked sympathetically at her round, blank
face and silly eyes and said I was very sorry for
her.
The Reverend Jonathan had. . . .
I said I was unfortunately in a great hurry,
the waiting-room was full of people, what could
I do for her? She said she had come to put
herself in my hands, she was going to have a
baby. She knew that the Reverend Jonathan
was watching over her from his heaven but she
could not help feeling very anxious, it was her
first child. She had heard a lot about me, now,
since she had seen me, she felt sure she would
be as safe in my hands as in the hands of the
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