"Yes. But not so much as you be."
"How do you know?"
"Your face is white and wet, and your head is hanging-down-like."
"Ah, I am exhausted from inside."
"Why do you, every time you take a step, go like this?" The child in speaking gave to his motion the jerk and limp of an invalid.
"Because I have a burden which is more than I can bear."
The little boy remained silently pondering, and they tottered on side by side until more than a quarter of an hour had elapsed, when Mrs. Yeobright, whose weakness plainly increased, said to him, "I must sit down here to rest."
When she had seated herself he looked long in her face and said, "How funny you draw your breath—like a lamb when you drive him till he's nearly done for. Do you always draw your breath like that?"
"Not always." Her voice was now so low as to be scarcely above a whisper.
"You will go to sleep there, I suppose, won't you? You have shut your eyes already."