Hysteria Page #3

Rigid thrombus?

Sorry. Rigid thrombus?

it augurs fame.

No, no, no...

While I have the utmost respect

for your method, Miss Dalrymple

I must complaint that you misread me.

I'm but a simple doctor.

I have no ambition for notoriety.

And I can assure you, your

thrombus is the key to you future.

Whether you seek it or not, Dr. Granville.

You're destined for fame.

Ahoy!

Ahoy!

Who is this?

Who is this, please?

Mr. Stanton...Huh.

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me now?

Yes.

This is Edmund St. John Smythe.

No, I don't work at

the telephone exchange. You see...

I've installed this telephone and I wanted to test it

you're the only person

they could connect me to. Haha...

How're things going over there?

Sound's thrilling. Very well.

Carry on then. Goodbye.

Do you realize?

I have been speaking to a barrister

on the other side of London.

What about it?

Nothing. I don't even know the job.

Nothing to value if you

have nothing to speak about.

Here I am in Grosvenor Square,

and he's miles away

yet, we're able to speak

to each other instantaneously.

Do you think they'll catch on?

I have no idea.

But imagine if everyone had one.

Right.

Well...

I have just been offered a position

by London'0s leading specialist in women's medicine.

Oh, God...

How ghastly for you.

When do you start?

Tomorrow.

Quite looking forward to it, actually.

Who is she?

What?

Hmm?

She's his daughter.

Emily Dalrymple.

I've only met her briefly, but...

But what?

Oh, Edmund. She is magnificent.

The epitome of English virtue and...

Womanliness.

I haven't the hope.

Huh. Handsome, young doctor.

What more could a woman ask?

Huh, better income. Social equal.

Overrated.

A few laughs, stiff pricks. That's all a woman wants.

And you know this because?

Oh, I've read it in a magazine.

Oh, I see.

A toast then. To the end of

Dr. Mortimer Granville, once a brilliant student,

most recently, a visionary doctor to the poor,

and now, handmade to anxious middle-aged women.

Edmund St. John Smythe.

Bachelor.

Benefactor. Miserable student.

Sometimes drunkard.

Full time sexual deviant and

supreme waster of time and money,

especially if it has anything to do

with the science of electricity.

- To the telephone.

- To the Queen.

To calling the Queen on the telephone.

Morning, Mrs. Parsons.

Oh, good morning, Doctor.

This is Dr. Granville.

He'll be assisting me this morning.

Very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Parsons.

Doctor...

Notice the general pallor.

And how are we

this morning, Ms. Parsons?

Still feeling anxious?

yes, quite anxious, doctor.

I've been having those distracting

thoughts we discussed all week.

Yes.

Throughout history,

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