'Fever, and ague, and rheumatism, sir.'

'Where?' asked Lancelot, a little amused by the man's laconic
answers.

'Wherever the white fog spreads, sir.'

'Where's that?'

'Everywhere, sir.'

'And when?'

'Always, sir.'

Lancelot burst out laughing. The man looked up at him slowly and
seriously.

'You wouldn't laugh, sir, if you'd seen much of the inside of these
cottages round.'

'Really,' said Lancelot, 'I was only laughing at our making such
very short work of such a long and serious story. Do you mean that
the unhealthiness of this country is wholly caused by the river?'

'No, sir. The river-damps are God's sending; and so they are not
too bad to bear. But there's more of man's sending, that is too bad
to bear.'