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 "Dead, you perhaps mean?—To arrive dead is not impossible?—Speak clearly!"

"A medical man, Madam, lives in a constant round of perplexity; for either he must risk killing his patients by telling them unpleasant truths; or letting them kill themselves by nourishing false hopes."

"Take some other time for bewailing your own difficulties, Sir! and speak to the point, without that hateful official cant."

"Well, Madam, if nothing but rough honesty will satisfy you, bear it, at least, with fortitude. The motion of a carriage is so likely to open your wound, that, in all probability, before you could gain Cuckfield—or Reigate, at furthest,—"

He stopt. Elinor finished for him: "I should be no more?"

He was silent.

"I thank you, Sir!" she cried, in a firm voice, though with livid cheeks.