" She had
fought against his wish that she should go into a nursing home; and Joan,
who in the course of her work upon the _Nursing Times_ had acquired some
knowledge of them as a whole, was inclined to agree with her. She was
quite comfortable where she was. The landlady, according to her account,
was a dear. She had sent the nurse out for a walk on getting Joan's
wire, so that they could have a cosy chat. She didn't really want much
attendance. It was her heart. It got feeble now and then, and she had
to keep very still; that was all. Joan told how her father had suffered
for years from much the same complaint. So long as you were careful
there was no danger. She must take things easily and not excite herself.
Mrs. Phillips acquiesced. "It's turning me into a lazy-bones," she said
with a smile. "I can sit here by the hour, just watching the bustle. I
was always one for a bit of life."
The landlady entered with Joan's tea. Joan took an instinctive dislike
to her. She was a large, flashy woman, wearing a quantity of cheap
jewellery. Her familiarity had about it something almost threatening.
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