The man shook convulsively as he sneezed while out-patients and their guardians sat in the small semi-lit hall of a homeo-clinic, waiting to be called in, by turn.

I was one among the waiting patients.

The man was of medium height, swarthy, his features ragged ; he wore a tattered pant that reached up to his knees, revealing his bare legs which were a mass of flaring blisters.

As I was observing him from the corner of my eyes, I saw him walking towards me. I tried to look the other way, pretending to ignore him.

He tapped my elbow gently with the tip of his finger, drawing my attention to him.

As I turned round to see, he stretched out his right hand towards me, asking for...