Chapter 15WIGFULL, THISTLETHWAITE, MUTTON & CO.Ever since his arrival in South Devon Phillip had put off going to see the doctor in the hope that his lung would heal itself in the fresh air, with exercise; now, to prepare himself for the coming winter, he determined to begin a new life. He got out of bed at the same time every morning, disciplining himself to shave and wash before going downstairs to see what the postman had brought. To train himself further he practised shadow-boxing in the bedroom; and while going through the motions one morning, working arms and shoulder blades, he heard his breath coming harsh through his throat. Were his bronchial tubes eaten away by tuberculosis, after the mustard gas in 1918? The thought touched him like an icicle. There was a disabled infantry officer staying in the village, who had a tubercular throat due to mustard gas. Phillip had met him in the Ring of Bells. He must find out where he lived, from the landlord. As soon as he entered the pub the landlord said, “Funny thing, I was just tellin’ the very same gentleman where you lived.
