Chapter 33

So that was the beginning of David's highly annoying run of typhoid fever, which came to a spanking crisis at the end of three weeks, kept him in bed for three more, and then permitted him to be a lanky but slowly reviving convalescent able to sit in a chair and try his legs at intervals to discover how incompetent they had become. He had had not a particle of interest out of the whole affair. Even his nurses, who might have lent a little color to the monotonous scene, had been picked for their competency rather th…