He was absolutely insensible, but his throat was
not yet palsied, and he could swallow a spoonful of broth or sack whey
from time to time. But he was a dead man to all intents and purposes.
Inflammation might set in at any moment; at best he would soon begin to
sink, and neither he nor Doctor Pell thought he had the smallest chance
of awaking from his lethargy for one moment. He might last two or three
days, or even a week--what did it signify?--what was he better than a
corpse already? He could never hear, see, speak, or think again; and for
any difference it could possibly make to poor Sturk, they might clap him
in his grave and cover him up to-night.
Then the talk turned upon Nutter. Every man had his theory or his
conjecture but Dangerfield, who maintained a discreet reserve, much to
the chagrin of the others, who thought, not without reason, that he knew
more about the state of his affairs, and especially of his relations
with Lord Castlemallard, than perhaps all the world beside.
'Possibly, poor fellow, he was not in a condition to have his accounts
overhauled, and on changing an agency things sometimes come out that
otherwise might have kept quiet.
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