Martin, taking the foot of the
bed, supported her on the other.
'You wonder what we want, I daresay,' observed John. 'I'll tell you
presently, when you have recovered. It's not pressing, for a few minutes
or so. How do you find yourself? Better?'
Mrs Gamp shed more tears, shook her head and feebly pronounced Mrs
Harris's name.
'Have a little--' John was at a loss what to call it.
'Tea,' suggested Martin.
'It ain't tea,' said Mrs Gamp.
'Physic of some sort, I suppose,' cried John. 'Have a little.'
Mrs Gamp was prevailed upon to take a glassful. 'On condition,' she
passionately observed, 'as Betsey never has another stroke of work from
me.'
'Certainly not,' said John. 'She shall never help to nurse ME.'
'To think,' said Mrs Gamp, 'as she should ever have helped to nuss that
friend of yourn, and been so near of hearing things that--Ah!'
John looked at Martin.
'Yes,' he said. 'That was a narrow escape, Mrs Gamp.'
'Narrer, in-deed!' she returned. 'It was only my having the night, and
hearin' of him in his wanderins; and her the day, that saved it. Wot
would she have said and done, if she had know'd what I know; that
perfeejus wretch! Yet, oh good gracious me!' cried Mrs Gamp, trampling
on the floor, in the absence of Mrs Prig, 'that I should hear from that
same woman's lips what I have heerd her speak of Mrs Harris!'
'Never mind,' said John.
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