One day Mrs Clinton was talking to a neighbour in the bedroom, the
patient was so quiet that they thought him asleep.
'Yes, I've 'ad a time with 'im, I can tell you,' said Mrs Clinton. 'No
one knows what I've gone through.'
'Well, I must say,' said the friend, 'you haven't spared yourself;
you've nursed him like a professional nurse.'
Mrs Clinton crossed her hands over her stomach and looked at her husband
with self-satisfaction. But Mr Clinton was awake, staring in front of
him with wide-open, fixed eyes; various thoughts confusedly ran through
his head.
'Isn't 'e looking strange?' whispered Mrs Clinton.
The two women kept silence, watching him.
'Amy, are you there?' asked Mr Clinton, suddenly, without turning his
eyes.
'Yes, dear. Is there anything you want?'
Mr Clinton did not reply for several minutes; the women waited in
silence.
'Bring me a Bible, Amy,' he said at last.
'A Bible, Jimmy?' asked Mrs Clinton, in astonishment.
'Yes, dear!'
She looked anxiously at her friend.
'Oh, I do 'ope the delirium isn't coming on again,' she whispered, and,
pretending to smooth his pillow, she passed her hand over his forehead
to see if it was hot. 'Are you quite comfortable, dear?' she asked,
without further allusion to the Bible.
'Yes, Amy, quite!'
'Don't you think you could go to sleep for a little while?'
'I don't feel sleepy, I want to read; will you bring me the Bible?'
Mrs Clinton looked helplessly at her friend; she feared something was
wrong, and she didn't know what to do. But the neighbour, with a
significant look, pointed to the _Daily Telegraph_, which was lying on a
chair. Mrs Clinton brightened up and took it to her husband.
'Here's the paper, dear.' Mr Clinton made a slight movement of
irritation.
'I don't want it; I want the Bible.' Mrs Clinton looked at her friend
more helplessly than ever.
'I've never known 'im ask for such a thing before,' she whispered, 'and
'e's never missed reading the _Telegraph_ a single day since we was
married.'
'I don't think you ought to read,' she said aloud to her husband. 'But
the doctor'll be here soon, and I'll ask 'im then.'
The doctor stroked his chin thoughtfully. 'I don't think there'd be any
harm in letting him have a Bible,' he said, 'but you'd better keep an
eye on him.... I suppose there's no insanity in the family?'
'No, doctor, not as far as I know. I've always 'eard that my mother's
uncle was very eccentric, but that wouldn't account for this, because we
wasn't related before we married.'
Mr Clinton took the Bible, and, turning to the New Testament, began to
read. He read chapter after chapter, pausing now and again to meditate,
or reading a second time some striking passage, till at last he finished
the first gospel. Then he turned to his wife.
'Amy, d'you know, I think I should like to do something for my
feller-creatures. I don't think we're meant to live for ourselves alone
in this world.'
Mrs Clinton was quite overcome; she turned away to hide the tears which
suddenly filled her eyes, but the shock was too much for her, and she
had to leave the room so that her husband might not see her emotion; she
immediately sent for the doctor.
'Oh, doctor,' she said, her voice broken with sobs, 'I'm afraid--I'm
afraid my poor 'usband's going off 'is 'ead.'
And she told him of the incessant reading and the remark Mr Clinton had
just made. The doctor looked grave, and began thinking.
'You're quite sure there's no insanity in the family?' he asked again.
'Not to the best of my belief, doctor.'
'And you've noticed nothing strange in him? His mind hasn't been running
on money or clothes?'
'No, doctor; I wish it 'ad. I shouldn't 'ave thought anything of that;
there's something natural in a man talking about stocks and shares and
trousers, but I've never 'eard 'im say anything like this before. He was
always a wonderfully steady man.'