"How...many?"
"We can't tell yet."
Silence again. Bessy's features seemed to shrink into a kind of waxen quietude—as though her face were seen under clear water, a long way down. And then, as she lay thus, without sound or movement, two tears forced themselves through her lashes and rolled down her cheeks.
Justine, bending close, wiped them away. "Bessy—"
The wet lashes were raised—an anguished look met her gaze.
"I—I can't bear it...."
"What, dear?"
"The pain.... Shan't I die...before?"
"You may get well, Bessy."
Justine felt her hand quiver. "Walk again...?"