And then with a quick jerk of his head, "He's been pretty bad," he said.

Roger looked at the man on the bed.

With his thin waxen features drawn, the man was gasping for each breath.
"What's the matter ?" Roger whispered.
"Lungs," said the young woman harshly.

"You needn't bother to speak so low.
He can't hear you anyhow.

He's dying.