At present he is mending, but very, very slowly.

He knows no one, not even me, but I trust that your voice and your presence will do wonders for him." "Where is he, Harry ?" Marie said as she stood with clasped hands, and a face from which every vestige of colour had flown.

"Take me to him at once." "He is in the house, Marie; that is why I have brought you here.
These good people have nursed and concealed him for five months." Marie made a movement towards the door.
"Wait, Marie, you cannot go to him till you compose yourself.

It is all-important that you should speak to him, when you see him, in your natural voice, and you must prepare yourself for a shock.
He is at present a mere wreck, so changed that you will hardly know him." "You are telling me the truth, Harry?
You are not hiding from me that he is dying ?" "No, dear; I believe, on my honour, that he is out of danger now, and that he is progressing.

It is his mind more than his body that needs curing.