"Thank you, sir. It don't matter."
A habit in him of speaking to the poor and of avoiding patronage or condescension or childishness (which is the favourite device, many people deeming it quite a subtlety to talk to them like little spelling books) has put him on good terms with the woman easily.
"Let me look at your forehead," he says, bending down. "I am a doctor. Don't be afraid. I wouldn't hurt you for the world."
He knows that by touching her with his skilful and accustomed hand he can soothe her yet more readily. She makes a slight objection, saying, "It's nothing"; but he has scarcely laid his fingers on the wounded place when she lifts it up to the light.

"Thank you, sir. It don't matter."
A habit in him of speaking to the poor and of avoiding condescension has put him on good terms with the woman easily.
"Let me look at your forehead," he says, bending down. "I am a doctor. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
He knows that by touching her with his skilful hand he can soothe her more readily. She says, "It's nothing"; but he has scarcely laid his fingers on the wounded place when she lifts it up to the light.
