'
'Which, dear?'
'How do you mean "Which"? Which what?'
'Which peculiar feeling?'
'What peculiar feeling are we talking about?'
'I said, which peculiar feeling did Mr. Frabelle have?'
'What are you trying to get at, Edith?' He looked at her suspiciously.
Edith sighed.
'Was it the heaviness in the feet, or the lightness in the head, or was
it the twitching of the eyelid which Mr. Frabelle used to suffer from?'
'Oh, ah! Yes, I see what you mean. It seemed he had a little of them
all. But what do you think she used to do?'
'I haven't the slightest idea.'
'There's some stuff called Tisane--have you ever heard of it?' Bruce
asked. 'It's a simple remedy, but a very good thing. Well, he used to
use that.'
'Did he bathe his eye with it?'
'Oh, my dear Edith, you're wool-gathering. Do pull yourself together. He
drank it, that's what he did, and that's what I'm going to do.
Eg--Madame Frabelle would go straight down into the kitchen and show you
how to make it if you like.'
'I don't mind, if cook doesn't,' said Edith.
'Oh, we'll see about that. Anyway she's going to show me how to get it
made.
'Then there's another thing Madame Frabelle suggested.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61