"What's the news, doctor? Tell it out, man!—never fear." Rosalind dares not ask; her heart gives a great bound, and stops, and her teeth chatter and close tight. She could not speak if she tried.
"I wouldna like to be over-confeedent, Mr. Fenwick, and ye'll understand I'm only geevin' ye my own eempression...."
"Yes, quite right—go on...."
"Vara parteecularly because our young friend Dr. Vereker is unwulling to commeet himself ... but I should say a pairceptible...."
He is interrupted. For with a loud shout Dr. Conrad himself, dishevelled and ashy-white of face, comes running from the door opposite. The word he has shouted so loudly he repeats twice; then turns as though to go back. But he does not reach the door, for he staggers suddenly, like a man struck by a bullet, and falls heavily, insensible.
There is a movement and a shouting among the scattered groups that have been waiting, three hours past, as those nearest at hand run to help and raise him; and the sound of voices and exultation passes from group to group. For what he shouted was the one word "Breath!" And Rosalind knew its meaning as her head swam and she heard no more.