'It's over, all well,' he said. He brushed his forehead and looked sharply cheerful.
'My dear fellow! my dear fellow!' Sir Lukin grasped his hand. 'It's more than I deserve. Over? She has borne it! She would have gone to heaven and left me!
Is she safe?'
'Doing well.'
'Have you seen the surgeons?'
'Mrs. Warwick.'
'What did she say?'
'A nod of the head.'
'You saw her?'
'She came to the stairs.'