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〃Well； when a man lives year in year out among a thousand lunatics；
with a fair sprinkling of homicidals among them； one's nerves either get
set or shattered。 Mine are all right so far。〃
〃I was frightened once；〃 says the surgeon。 〃It was when I was doing
dispensary work。 One night I had a call from some very poor people； and
gathered from the few words they said that their child was ill。 When I
entered the room I saw a small cradle in the corner。 Raising the lamp I
walked over and putting back the curtains I looked down at the baby。 I
tell you it was sheer Providence that I didn't drop that lamp and set the
whole place alight。 The head on the pillow turned and I saw a face
looking up at me which seemed to me to have more malignancy and
wickedness than ever I had dreamed of in a nightmare。 It was the flush
of red over the cheekbones； and the brooding eyes full of loathing of me；
and of everything else； that impressed me。 I'll never forget my start as；
instead of the chubby face of an infant； my eyes fell upon this creature。 I
took the mother into the next room。 ‘What is it？' I asked。 ‘A girl of
sixteen；' said she； and then throwing up her arms； ‘Oh； pray God she may
be taken！' The poor thing； though she spent her life in this little cradle；
had great； long； thin limbs which she curled up under her。 I lost sight of
the case and don't know what became of it； but I'll never forget the look in
her eyes。〃
〃That's creepy；〃 says Dr。 Foster。 〃But I think one of my experiences
would run it close。 Shortly after I put up my plate I had a visit from a
little hunch…backed woman who wished me to come and attend to her
sister in her trouble。 When I reached the house； which was a very poor
one； I found two other little hunched…backed women； exactly like the first；
waiting for me in the sitting…room。 Not one of them said a word； but my
companion took the lamp and walked upstairs with her two sisters behind
her； and me bringing up the rear。 I can see those three queer shadows
cast by the lamp upon the wall as clearly as I can see that tobacco pouch。
In the room above was the fourth sister； a remarkably beautiful girl in
evident need of my assistance。 There was no wedding ring upon her
finger。 The three deformed sisters seated themselves round the room；
like so many graven images； and all night not one of them opened her
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mouth。 I'm not romancing； Hargrave； this is absolute fact。 In the early
morning a fearful thunderstorm broke out； one of the most violent I have
ever known。 The little garret burned blue with the lightning； and thunder
roared and rattled as if it were on the very roof of the house。 It wasn't
much of a lamp I had； and it was a queer thing when a spurt of lightning
came to see those three twisted figures sitting round the walls； or to have
the voice of my patient drowned by the booming of the thunder。 By Jove！
I don't mind telling you that there was a time when I nearly bolted from
the room。 All came right in the end； but I never heard the true story of
the unfortunate beauty and her three crippled sisters。〃
〃That's the worst of these medical stories；〃 sighs the outsider。 〃They
never seem to have an end。〃
〃When a man is up to his neck in practice； my boy； he has no time to
gratify his private curiosity。 Things shoot across him and he gets a
glimpse of them； only to recall them； perhaps； at some quiet moment like
this。 But I've always felt； Manson； that your line had as much of the
terrible in it as any other。〃
〃More；〃 groans the alienist。 〃A disease of the body is bad enough；
but this seems to be a disease of the soul。 Is it not a shocking thinga
thing to drive a reasoning man into absolute Materialismto think that you
may have a fine； noble fellow with every divine instinct and that some
little vascular change； the dropping； we will say； of a minute spicule of
bone from the inner table of his skull on to the surface of his brain may
have the effect of changing him to a filthy and pitiable creature with every
low and debasing tendency？ What a satire an asylum is upon the majesty
of man； and no less upon the ethereal nature of the soul。〃
〃Faith and hope；〃 murmurs the general practitioner。
〃I have no faith； not much hope； and all the charity I can afford；〃 says
the surgeon。 〃When theology squares itself with the facts of life I'll read
it up。〃
〃You were talking about cases；〃 says the outsider； jerking the ink down
into his stylographic pen。
〃Well； take a common complaint which kills many thousands every
year； like G。 P。 for instance。〃
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〃What's G。 P。？〃
〃General practitioner；〃 suggests the surgeon with a grin。
〃The British public will have to know what G。 P。 is；〃 says the alienist
gravely。 〃It's increasing by leaps and bounds； and it has the distinction of
being absolutely incurable。 General paralysis is its full title； and I tell
you it promises to be a perfect scourge。 Here's a fairly typical case now
which I saw last Monday week。 A young farmer； a splendid fellow；
surprised his fellows by taking a very rosy view of things at a time when
the whole country…side was grumbling。 He was going to give up wheat；
give up arable land； too； if it didn't pay； plant two thousand acres of
rhododendrons and get a monopoly of the supply for Covent Garden
there was no end to his schemes； all sane enough but just a bit inflated。 I
called at the farm； not to see him； but on an altogether different matter。
Something about the man's way of talking struck me and I watched him
narrowly。 His lip had a trick of quivering； his words slurred themselves
together； and so did his handwriting when he had occasion to draw up a
small agreement。 A closer inspection showed me that one of his p