"Ugh! I've no patience with all their affected ways," said Fru Hermansen sullenly. She was disappointed at finding the conversation turned to something of so little interest by comparison. "What was I going to say now?" she went on. "Was it just lately he knocked you about like that?"
"Ye--es, of course. But no worse than before. Not nearly so bad. And anyhow, if he did, I suppose it was God's will. Or else, perhaps, he can't help it, by reason of always having an unruly mind."
She checked herself with a sudden start, and her busy hands fell to patting aimlessly here and there.
"I think it must be toothache," she said in a loud, drawling, careless voice, altogether different from her former manner.
"Toothache?..." Madam Hermansen sat with her mouth wide open for a moment--then she, too, caught the sound of Egholm's approaching step. "Yes, yes, of course, it would be toothache, yes, yes...." And she chuckled with a sound like the rattle of a rake on a watering-can.
"Emanuel, I mean, of course," said Fru Egholm confusedly, as her husband walked in. He was carrying a huge paper bag, that looked as if it might burst at any minute.
He set it down carefully, and joined in the conversation.
"Now, if only Anna would let me," he said eagerly, "I'd cure that child in no time."
"I've heard you can do all sorts of wonders, so people say." Fru Hermansen leaned back with her hands folded across her lap, and looked up admiringly at Egholm.
"Why, I know a trifle of the secrets of Nature, that's all. As for toothache, there's no such thing. The youngster there--what's his name, now?--Emanuel, is suffering from indigestion, nothing more. Give him a plate of carrots chopped up fine, mixed with equal parts of sand and gravel, morning and evening, and he'd be all right in a couple of days."
"Never as long as I live!" said Fru Egholm.
"Powdered glass is very effective, too," went on Egholm, encouraged by Fru Hermansen's laughter, and putting on a thoughtful expression.
"I'll not see a child of mine murdered that or any other way," said the mother.
"Oh, but you'd see what a difference it would make. I'm quite in earnest. Haven't you heard that fowls have to have gravel? I noticed it myself yesterday with my own eyes, saw them pecking it up. And the idea came to me at once. I've half a mind, really, to set up as a quack doctor...."