'
And as the warmth of the bed began to tell, the signs of life showed
themselves more and more unequivocally. But Toole knew that his patient
was in a state of coma, from which he had no hope of his emerging.
So poor little Mrs. Sturk--as white as the plaster on the wall--who kept
her imploring eyes fixed on the doctor's ruddy countenance, during his
moments of deliberation, burst out into a flood of tears, and
thanksgivings, and benedictions.
'He'll recover--something tells me he'll recover. Oh! my
Barney--darling--you will--you will.'
'While there's life--you know--my dear Ma'am,', said Toole, doing his
best. 'But then--you see--he's been very badly abused about the head;
and the brain you know--is the great centre--the--the--but, as I said,
while there's life, there's hope.'
'And he's so strong--he shakes off an illness so easily; he has such
courage.'
'So much the better, Ma'am.'
'And I can't but think, as he did not die outright, and has shown such
wonderful endurance. Oh! my darling, he'll get on.'
'Well, well, Ma'am, there certainly have been wonderful recoveries.'
'And he's so much better already, you see, and I know so well how he
gets through an illness, 'tis wonderful, and he certainly is mightily
improved since we got him to bed.
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