...vanquished chill having suddenly reappeared with immense force and fury, revealed itself as measles. ... Soon after this, all becomes incoherent and muddled. Doctor says my Age is against me, which hurts my feelings ....
... And now, says our Vicar's wife, How am I? Before I can reply, she does so for me, and says that she knows just how I feel. Weak as a rat, legs like cotton-wool, no spine whatever, and head like a boiled owl. Am depressed by this diagnosis, and begin to feel that it must be correct.
Further demand for the Rates arrives, and Cook sends up jelly once more for lunch. I offer it to the cat, who gives one heave and turns away. Go to sleep in the afternoon ....
Robert drives me to North Road station to catch train for Bude. ... We arrive early and sit on a bench on the platform next to a young woman with a cough, who takes one look at me and then says: "Dreadful, isn't it?" Cannot help feeling that she has summarised the whole situation quite admirably....
E.M Delafield, Diary of a Provincial Lady
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