And amid the earthquakes, the motor-car, the carts, the
clogs and boots, and the steam muezzins calling the faithful to work, Mr
Cowlishaw could still distinguish the tireless, monstrous sighing of the
Cauldon Bar blast furnaces. And, finally, he heard another sound. It
came from the room next to his, and, when he heard it, exhausted though
he was, exasperated though he was, he burst into laughter, so comically
did it strike him.
It was an alarm-clock going off in the next room.
And, further, when he arrived downstairs, the barmaid, sweet,
conscientious little thing, came up to him and said, "I'm so sorry, sir.
I quite forgot to tell the boots to call you!"
II
That afternoon he sat in his beautiful new surgery and waited for dental
sufferers to come to him from all quarters of the Five Towns. It needs
not to be said that nobody came. The mere fact that a new dentist has
"set up" in a district is enough to cure all the toothache for miles
around. The one martyr who might, perhaps, have paid him a visit and a
fee did not show herself. This martyr was Mrs Simeon Clowes, the
mayoress. By a curious chance, he had observed, during his short sojourn
at the Turk's Head, that the landlady thereof was obviously in pain from
her teeth, or from a particular tooth.
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