"WHY can't you walk?
WHY can't you come with me to places ?" "At one time," she replied, "I could have run up that hill a good deal better than you." "What's the good of that to ME ?" he cried, hitting his fist on the wall.
Then he became plaintive.

"It's too bad of you to be ill.

Little, it is--" "Ill!" she cried.

"I'm a bit old, and you'll have to put up with it, that's all." They were quiet.

But it was as much as they could bear.