``I know it,'' said the Doctor.
``But she threeps to keep on a black fause-face,
and skirls if we offer to take it away.''
``Well then, let her wear it---What harm will
it do?''
``Harm, Doctor! Was ever honest woman
brought to bed with a fause-face on?''
``Seldom, perhaps. But, Jean, my dear, those
who are not quite honest must be brought to bed
all the same as those who are, and we are not to
endanger the poor thing's life by contradicting her
whims at present.''
Approaching the sick woman's bed, he observed
that she indeed wore a thin silk mask, of the kind
which do such uncommon service in the elder
comedy; such as women of rank still wore in travelling,
but certainly never in the situation of this
poor lady. It would seem she had sustained importunity
on the subject, for when she saw the
Doctor, she put her hand to her face, as if she was
afraid he would insist on pulling off the vizard. He
hastened to say, in tolerable French, that her will
should be a law to them in every respect, and that
she was at perfect liberty to wear the mask till it was
her pleasure to lay it aside. She understood him;
for she replied, by a very imperfect attempt in the
same language, to express her gratitude for the
permission, as she seemed to regard it, of retaining
her disguise.
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