Barry Pain

“ I consoled her as well as I could, and by dinner-time she was quite herself again; there was even a touch of colour in her face. She talked well; I think even it would have been said that she talked brilliantly. There was nothing apparently wrong with her but her lapse of memory.
After dinner I said to her, “I have sent for my doctor. He's quite a nice old man, and you won't mind him a bit. I have not told him that you have lost your memory, and I shall not tell him so. Perhaps he will be able to give you something that is good for you.” ”

“ My suggestions as to luncheon were waived aside imperiously. “Leave it to me, miss,” said Mrs. Mason. “I know what illness is. I shouldn't wish to seem to boast, but there are few families has had as much illness as mine has. Leave it to me.”
So my new friend—if one must condescend to details—received quintessential soup, roast chicken, and a milk-pudding. As Mrs. Mason knows, if there is one thing I hate more than another it is milk-pudding, but very little she cared.
As we sat down to luncheon my friend said suddenly, “I have forgotten my medicine.” ”

“ I said, “you will come with me to my flat and have some luncheon. If your memory doesn't come back then you can stay there for the present. I have a spare room, and I will make you quite comfortable. I live alone. Then to-morrow, if your memory has not returned, we can talk about it and decide what is best to do. You must have friends. They will almost certainly advertise for you.” ”