The remedy is cheap and efficacious, and it is a patent.

Like Elliman applied to a rheumatic shoulder it really does do good--I mean to the owner of the shoulder.
And you can stop rubbing the moment you are relieved.

Perhaps these external remedies are indispensable to the comfort of those who dwell by choice, like Fay, in low-lying swampy districts, and have no thought of moving to higher ground.
Magdalen knew these signs, and sometimes her heart sank.
Was Fay unconsciously turning aside to busy herself over little things that were not required of her, in order to shut her eyes to the one thing needful--a great act of reparation?
If Fay was watching Magdalen, someone else was watching Fay.

Bessie's round, hard, staring eyes were upon her, and if Bessie did anything she did it to some purpose.
One afternoon in the middle of April Bessie came into Magdalen's sitting room and sat down with an air of concentration.
"I have reason to be deeply ashamed of myself," she said.

"I _am_ ashamed of myself.