‘At this present rate, we shall exhaust our venereals as well,’ he said, washing his hands. ‘How many does that make, Mr Herapath?’ ‘Howlands is the seventh, sir,’ replied his assistant. ‘The gaol-fever might fox me,’ said Stephen, ‘but the lues venerea never can: pox in all its forms is as familiar to the seafaring medical man as the common cold to his colleague by land. These are all recent infections, Mr Herapath; and since our Gipsy woman is continence itself, sure the only source is Mrs Wogan’s servant Peg. For you are to observe that although a protracted voyage may bring about a
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