"Honestly speaking I do not think there would. I believe I am doing for him all that can be done."
Ann Hopley drew the gate open again, and the doctor went out. Karl passed on through the labyrinth.
Sir Adam liked to use his own will in all respects, and it was the first time he had made even a semblance of obeying Mr. Moore's orders of taking rest by daytime. He looked very ill. The once handsome face seemed shrunk to nothing; the short hair was almost white; the grey-blue eyes, beautiful as Karl's, had a strangely wistful, patient look in them.
"I thought you would be here, Karlo. I have wanted you ever since daylight."
"Are you feeling better, Adam? Free from pain?"
"Much better. Quite free from it."
"Moore has been saying he wishes we could get you to London, that you might have more skilled advice."
"What nonsense!" cried Adam. "As if any advice could really avail me! He knows it would not. Did it avail my father, Karl?"
Karl remained silent. There was no answer he could make.
"Sit down, old fellow, and tell me all the news. Got a paper with you?"