"And you, Diggs?"
"Like a blooming baby, sir," said Diggs, and Watson blew his nose
violently.
"Doctor, I thought for a moment that it was Mary at the door," said
Mr. Bingle slowly. He was still trembling.
"Oh, she won't be here for a couple of weeks, Bingle--perhaps three.
But she's coming, old man--coming with banners flying and bells on her
toes. 'Gad, you won't know her when you see her to-morrow." He sent a
quick, frowning glance around the room. "They're gone, eh? All of 'em?
Good! I must tell you in advance, Bingle, that Mrs. Bingle will have
to bring a nurse with her--for a while, at least. So, you see, we'll
need all the room--"
"A nurse? Oh, my Lord!" gasped Mr. Bingle, dropping into a chair as
his knees gave way beneath him. "Is--is it as bad as that?"
"Cheer up!" cried the doctor, laying a hand upon his shoulder, and
suddenly giving him a violent shake. "Nothing to be alarmed over, I
give you my word. She's as fine as a fiddle, I tell you. And now, give
me a full glass of that amazing egg-nogg you make, Bingle.
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