"And pale at that, and washy."
"Precisely. It's done up behind about as big as a nutmeg.... Now,
observe the contour of her back as she sits up there; it is curiously
curved, isn't it?"
"Very," I replied. "Not exactly a stoop, nor yet quite a hunch, but
certainly an odd spinal configuration."
"Like our friend's, once more?"
"Like our friend's, exactly!"
Hilda Wade looked away, lest she should attract the patient's attention.
"Well, that woman was brought in here, half-dead, assaulted by her
husband," she went on, with a note of unobtrusive demonstration.
"We get a great many such cases," Travers put in, with true medical
unconcern, "very interesting cases; and Nurse Wade has pointed out to me
the singular fact that in almost all instances the patients resemble one
another physically."
"Incredible!" I cried. "I can understand that there might well be a type
of men who assault their wives, but not, surely, a type of women who get
assaulted."
"That is because you know less about it than Nurse Wade," Travers
answered, with an annoying smile of superior knowledge.
Our instructress moved on to another bed, laying one gentle hand as she
passed on a patient's forehead.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102