She pictured it.
"Ah—but," she said, laying hold on hope again, "he will not die?"
"Well—there may be further lesions—in which case—"
"He will die?"
"He may die. He may die any moment."
She accepted it, abandoning hope.
"Will there be any return of consciousness? Will he know me?"
"I'm afraid not. If consciousness returns we may begin to hope. As it is, I don't want you to make up your mind to the worst. There are two things in his favour. He has evidently a sound constitution. And he has lived—up till now—Mr. Hannay tells me, a rather unusually temperate life. That is so?"
"Yes. He was most abstemious. Always—always. Why?"
The doctor recalled his eyes from their examination of Mrs. Majendie's face. It was evident that there were some truths which she could not bear.