"No, not quite all, Mr. Imason. There is—er—in fact, a lesion, a local injury, a fracture, due to the force of the impact on the ground."
"Is that serious? Pray be quiet, Mrs. Mumple. You really must restrain your feelings."
"Serious? Oh, undoubtedly, undoubtedly! I—I can't say it isn't serious. I should be doing wrong——"
"In one word, is it fatal or likely to be fatal?"
Grantley was nearly at the end of his forced patience. He had looked for a man—he had, it seemed, found another old woman; so he angrily thought within himself as old Gardiner stumbled over his words and worried his whiskers.
"If I were to explain the case in detail——"
"Presently, doctor, presently. Just now I want the result—the position of affairs, you know."
"For the moment, Mr. Imason, there is no danger to Mrs. Imason—I think I may say that. But the injury creates a condition of things which might, and in my judgment would, prove dangerous to her as time went on. I speak in view of her present condition."
"I see. Could that be obviated?"
Gardiner's nervousness increased.