“It’s a bad, mad, crazily brambled snarly place riddled with rabbit holes; it’s a bedlam of bird song. Nobody goes there; I just came upon it by chance. Here! I picked this posy for you there—all wild.” “I must see this place, Scrap, is it far?” “Too far…

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The laws of Sunhill Sanatorium were primarily made for the T.B.’s. Those patients not T.B. were more or less free-lances. We were therefore pounced upon by T.B. patients as legitimate prey to question for information regarding the “how bad state” of new patients. I never walked with the…

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A nurse from London, doing ‘Special’, was singing. The piano was at the end of the long dining-hall. ‘Ups’ were grouped around it listening. The nurse’s voice was neither good nor bad. The music carried across the court to the patients’ rooms under the wings. All sounds were…

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