The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. It’s your way of glossing over the ethical position. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death.
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