'There's
fevers of the mind,' she said, 'as well as body. You may take your slime
drafts till you files into the air with efferwescence; but you won't
cure that.'
'Ah!' said the barber, opening his eyes, and putting on his raven
aspect; 'Lor!'
'No. You may make yourself as light as any gash balloon,' said Mrs Gamp.
'But talk, when you're wrong in your head and when you're in your sleep,
of certain things; and you'll be heavy in your mind.'
'Of what kind of things now?' inquired Poll, greedily biting his nails
in his great interest. 'Ghosts?'
Mrs Gamp, who perhaps had been already tempted further than she had
intended to go, by the barber's stimulating curiosity, gave a sniff of
uncommon significance, and said, it didn't signify.
'I'm a-goin down with my patient in the coach this arternoon,' she
proceeded. 'I'm a-goin to stop with him a day or so, till he gets a
country nuss (drat them country nusses, much the orkard hussies knows
about their bis'ness); and then I'm a-comin back; and that's my trouble,
Mr Sweedlepipes. But I hope that everythink'll only go on right and
comfortable as long as I'm away; perwisin which, as Mrs Harris says, Mrs
Gill is welcome to choose her own time; all times of the day and night
bein' equally the same to me.
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