"How can you ask ?" "If you don't sleep, you'll get ill and die," said Septimus.
"So much the better," she replied.
"I wish I could help you.

I do wish I could help you." "No one can help me.

Least of all you.

What could a man do in any case?
And, as for you, my poor Septimus, you want as much taking care of as I do." The depreciatory tone did not sting him as it would have done another man, for he knew his incapacity.

He had also gone through the memory of Moses's rod the night before.
"I wonder whether Wiggleswick could be of any use ?" he said, more brightly.
Emmy laughed dismally.