There can be no doubt that the fall of
temperature and the quietness which both Porter and I had
looked upon as a hopeful sign, were really the beginning
to the end.
Mrs. La Force asked me to see to everything, the
formalities, register, and funeral. It was on a
Wednesday, and we thought it best that the burial should
be on the Friday. Back I hurried, therefore, not knowing
what to do first, and found old Whitehall waiting for me
in my consulting room, looking very jaunty with a camelia
in his button-hole. Not an organ in its right place, and
a camelia in his button-hole!
Between ourselves, I was sorry to see him, for I was
in no humour for his company; but he had heard all about
it from Miss Williams, and had come to stop. Only then
did I fully realise how much of the kindly, delicate-
minded gentleman remained behind that veil of profanity
and obscenity which he so often held before him.
"I'll trot along with you, Dr. Munro, sir. A
man's none the worse for a companion at such times. I'll
not open my mouth unless you wish it, sir; but I am an
idle man, and would take it as a kindness if you would
let me come round with you."
Round he came, and very helpful he was. He seemed to
know all about the procedure--"Buried two wives, Dr.
Munro, sir! "I signed the certificate myself, conveyed it
to the registrar, got the order for burial, took it round
to the parish clerk, arranged an hour, then off to the
undertaker's, and back to my practice.
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