You're too much in
the stars, Vigil. Medicine must be graduated to the patient. Come,
man, where's your sense of humour? Imagine your conception of marriage
applied to Pendyce and his sons, or his Rector, or his tenants, and the
labourers on his estate."
"No, no," said Gregory; "I refuse to believe----"
"The country classes," said Mr. Paramor quietly, "are especially
backward in such matters. They have strong, meat-fed instincts, and
what with the county Members, the Bishops, the Peers, all the hereditary
force of the country, they still rule the roast. And there's a certain
disease--to make a very poor joke, call it 'Pendycitis' with which most
of these people are infected. They're 'crass.' They do things, but they
do them the wrong way! They muddle through with the greatest possible
amount of unnecessary labour and suffering! It's part of the hereditary
principle. I haven't had to do with them thirty five years for nothing!"
Gregory turned his face away.
"Your joke is very poor," he said. "I don't believe they are like that!
I won't admit it. If there is such a disease, it's our business to find
a remedy."
"Nothing but an operation will cure it," said Mr. Paramor; "and before
operating there's a preliminary process to be gone through. It was
discovered by Lister.
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