THE HILL OF DREAMS
'I like "ounces of spirit," 'said Lucian. 'That's taking it medicinally, I suppose. I've often heard of ladies who have to "take it medicinally"; and that's how it's done?'
'That's it. "Dr. Burrows won't listen to me": "I tell him how I dislike the taste of spirits, but he says they are absolutely necessary for my constitution": "my medical man insists on something at bedtime"; that's the style.'
Lucian laughed gently; all these people had become indifferent to him; he could no longer feel savage indignation at their little hypocrisies and malignancies. Their voices uttering calumny, and morality, and futility had become like the thin shrill angry note of a gnat on a summer evening; he had his own thoughts and his own life, and he passed on without heeding.
'You come down to Caermaen pretty often, don't you?' said the doctor. 'I've seen you two or three times in the last fortnight.'
'Yes, I enjoy the walk.'
'Well, look me up whenever you like, you know. I am often in just at this time, and a chat with a human being isn't bad, now and then. It's a change for me: I'm often afraid I shall lose my patients.'
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