The change was somewhat modified now; but still the Nancy Woolper of to-day was not the Nancy Woolper of yesterday.
"You're looking very queer, Nancy," said the dentist, gravely scrutinising the woman's face with his bright penetrating eyes.

"Are you ill ?" "Well, Mr.Philip, I have been rather queer all night,--sickish and faintish-like." "Ah, you've been over-fatiguing yourself in the sick-room, I daresay.
Take care you don't knock yourself up." "No; it's not that, Mr.Philip.
There's not many can stand hard work better than I can.

It's not _that_ as made me ill.

I took something last night that disagreed with me." "More fool you," said Mr.Sheldon curtly; "you ought to know better than to ill-use your digestive powers at your age.

What was it?
Hard cold meat and preternaturally green pickles, I suppose; or something of that kind." "No, sir; it was only a drop of beef-tea that I made for poor Mr.
Halliday.