"Are you suffering much pain?" inquired the son in a hushed voice.
"It comes and goes," sighed the father. "It was just diabolical a few minutes ago; now it's a wee thing better, thanks."
"A kind of temporary relief," suggested the son.
"Possibly, possibly. I'd like to think it was going to last, though."
"I wish I could hold out hopes," said Andrew sympathetically.
Mr. Walkingshaw stirred suddenly.
"The doctor's not given me up yet, surely?" he exclaimed in a louder voice.
"Hush, hush! It'll only hurry things if you let yourself get excited."
"But, Andrew, my dear boy, tell me what he said to you."