"Yes, a week, with never a move till him, and niver a look out av his lovely eyes."
"But he takes his nourishment, does he?"
"Yes, once in a while a cup of milk with a wee drap av whisky intill it, doctor."
The doctor nodded.
"Won't hurt him. Not too much, mind. A teaspoonful in a large cup."
The doctor stood for some moments after he had finished his examination, looking down upon the little white face, so wasted, so beautiful. Then he shook has head sorrowfully.
"Ah, doctor, darlin'!" burst out Mrs. Carroll. "Don't say the wurrd! Don't say the wurrd!"
At this Carroll lifted his head and enquired briefly, "Will he get better, doctor?"
"He has a chance. He has a slight chance."
And with a look at Shock he left the room. After speaking a few words of comfort and hope to the mother Shock followed the doctor from the house.