"Well—as the anæsthetics lose their effect...."
There was a tap on the door, and one of the nurses entered to report to Wyant. He went out with her, and Justine was left with Mr. Tredegar.
He turned to her thoughtfully. "That young fellow seems sure of himself. You believe in him?"
Justine hesitated. "Not in his expectation of recovery—no one does."
"But you think they can keep the poor child alive till Langhope and her husband get back?"
There was a moment's pause; then Justine murmured: "It can be done...I think...."
"Yes—it's horrible," said Mr. Tredegar suddenly, as if in answer to her thought.
She looked up in surprise, and saw his eye resting on her with what seemed like a mist of sympathy on its vitreous surface. Her lips trembled, parting as if for speech—but she looked away without answering.
"These new devices for keeping people alive," Mr. Tredegar continued; "they increase the suffering besides prolonging it?"
"Yes—in some cases."