Primum non nocere (Firstly, do no harm)

When Samuel Johnson said that

You find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.

he was fortunate enough to be living in a less industrialized age; the city has grown since Johnson's day, with factories powered by steam-engines, and soot in the air obliging everyone to wear clothes of black or dark brown, and to launder another wash every other day.
In the height of summer, some of the better residential streets can afford the cost of a water-bowser to come and sprinkle water to keep the dust down (they leave scarcely enough water to make mud) but for the most part, the paving-stonesare littered with horse droppings and other, less savoury leavings. Every street is the business office of those women whose companionship is available commercially, and the highway of those who either choose their "pitch" and settle on an upturned basket to sell flowers, ribbons, matches, or other small commodities, or those who hawk their wares from door to door.
The businessmen of the streets begin their day early, and by half-past six or seven o'clock I can venture out to buy fresh milk from one of the city dairies (a development largely made possible by the railways), fresh flowers to sweeten the rooms, or to seek out the services of one of the itinerant chimney-sweeps if the chimneys have been giving trouble.
It's a bright warm August morning with the sounds of street vendors filtering through the kitchen window and I am up to my elbows in flour in the kitchen when the doorbell rings, so I clean my hands quickly, straighten my dress and scurry upstairs to answer the front door to Dr.Snow again. Mr.Marlowe has been out of bed since eight o'clock and when I last saw him, was looking quite relaxed in his smoking-cap and jacket in his study, so I invite the doctor to wait in the withdrawing room while I enquire whether Mr.Marlowe is at home to the doctor. As I expected, I am instructed to ask the doctor if he would remain in the drawing room to await the arrival of his host, and then prepare morning tea. When I return with the tea service, the two gentlemen are examining a sheaf of handwritten notes and Mr.Marlowe seems quite excited. In the course of pouring the tea I learn that the subject under discussion is the use of anaesthetic preparations as an adjunct to obstetric procedures. My interest must have shown on my face because Dr.Snow asked me if I had any understanding of the subject under discussion, to which I replied that I knew only as much as was proper to my sex.

Then madam, would you not agree that the delivery of a child without suffering would be a great blessing to womankind?

I would indeed doctor. Do you suppose that the science of medicine might offer such a boon someday?

Mr.Marlowe looked at me with the kind of look I have learned to recognize, and beware of:

I think, Mrs.Crawleigh, you are being disingenuous! and that you have more understanding of our conversation than you would willingly admit!

(Am I really that obvious? I really need to be more careful!)

Ordinarily I would find your curiosity impertinent, and perhaps even consider that you might be better employed as a governess, but you have given me no cause for complaint so far, and I hope to have none. Might I ask of you, only that you be a little more open with us in this house?

If you would excuse me for being so bold, Mr.Marlowe, I must admit I have a great deal of interest in the science of medicine, though I know little of it.

Good Heavens Marlowe! Perhaps you should encourage your housekeeper to enrol in the new Bedford College? Did you see it mentioned in the London Times a few weeks ago? a college for women! In all seriousness though Mrs. Crawleigh, if Mr.Marlowe has no objection perhaps we might see if you are an apt student? You must not mention this arrangement to anyone else however, or any agreement shall terminate immediately upon discovery.

It was as a result of this newly-established relationship that I collected the following song a few days ago. We had attended a particularly difficult confinement, a footling breech presentation, and Doctor Snow had entrusted me with the task of administering the anaesthetic to his patient, a terrifying responsibility for me since too much might cause cardiac arrhythmia, and too little would allow the patient to regain consciousness under horrifying circumstances. By the time we returned to Dr.Snow's office it was nearly dawn and I was still alert with the nervous energy of the night's work. So, it seemed, was Dr.Snow. For he asked me whether I could play the pianoforte, and produced a book of dances which he had acquired recently from an American publisher, turning to this page, which made me smile:

References

For the musical score, reproduced above, I am obliged to the Library of Congress
                    

The    written content of this work is licensed under a Creative    Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.