But I think that neither the blister nor the draught would work a cure." His speech was so honest and straightforward that he made them one and all feel what manner of thing was a disorder of the human frame--the strangeness and the terror of what is passing behind the closed door, which those without can only fight clumsily as they grope in dark uncertainty.
"She will die if that be God's pleasure." Maria broke into quiet tears; her father, not yet understanding, sat with his mouth half-open, and neither moved nor spoke.

The bone-setter, this sentence given, bowed his head and held his pitiful eyes for long upon the sick woman.

The browned hands that now availed him not lay upon his knees; leaning forward a little, his back bent, the gentle sad spirit seemed in silent communion with its maker--"Thou hast bestowed upon me the gift of healing bones that are broken, and I have healed them; but Thou hast denied me power over such ills as these; so must I let this poor woman die." For the first time now the deep marks of illness upon the mother's face appeared to husband and children as more than the passing traces of suffering, as imprints from the hand of death.

The hard-drawn breath rattling in her throat no longer betokened conscious pain, but was the last blind remonstrance of the body rent by nearing dissolution.
"You do not think she will die before the cure comes back ?" Maria asked.
Tit'Sebe's head and hand showed that he was helpless to answer.

"I cannot tell ...