"ODI PROFANUM VULGUS"
One day in the midst of Gloria's illness there occurred a curious
incident that puzzled Miss McGovern, the trained nurse, for some time
afterward. It was noon, but the room in which the patient lay was dark
and quiet. Miss McGovern was standing near the bed mixing some medicine,
when Mrs. Patch, who had apparently been sound asleep, sat up and began
to speak vehemently:
"Millions of people," she said, "swarming like rats, chattering like
apes, smelling like all hell ... monkeys! Or lice, I suppose. For one
really exquisite palace ... on Long Island, say--or even in Greenwich ...
for one palace full of pictures from the Old World and exquisite
things--with avenues of trees and green lawns and a view of the blue
sea, and lovely people about in slick dresses ... I'd sacrifice a
hundred thousand of them, a million of them." She raised her hand feebly
and snapped her fingers. "I care nothing for them--understand me?"
The look she bent upon Miss McGovern at the conclusion of this speech
was curiously elfin, curiously intent. Then she gave a short little
laugh polished with scorn, and tumbling backward fell off again
to sleep.
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