Balancing contagious manoeuvres with unpleasant outcomes

I made a very curios discovery this morning when I woke: Margaret was balancing on Bessy's shoulders and Bessy was balancing on hers. I tried to rearrange the way I was sitting so that this seemed normal, but could not. I gave up and decided that this must be possible, even if I couldn't understand how.

Drinking tea with Felix on his bench overlooking the English Channel, I mentioned this phenomenon. Felix said it sounded like the ancient manoeuvres of a dying tribe of spiritualists he'd come across in these parts a couple of centuries ago. This rather upset me on account of Bessy and Margaret being the loves of my life. However, Felix reassured me that the death of the tribe and their manoeuvres were unconnected other than by the bodies doing each. I must say this did little to put my mind at rest.

However, I plodded on and asked George if there were any places he'd come across where a man could assuage his fear of annihilation due to the loss of important others. He said I was already well past annihilation and should button my lips in case of contagion. He has a curious way of responding sometimes, does George.

Cookie had arranged the surgery in such a way that we spent the morning treating all patients in a space of one inch squared. This was to allow the rest of the room to breathe. We managed it and I felt much the better for it.

Curious.