"If you don't get some sleep your neuralgia won't be any better." "It isn't any better.

I don't expect it to be any better." "Well, you must go to bed or it will get worse.

I'll heat you a cup of milk and wrap you up in warm blankets." "Don't worry about me, dear.

Think of poor Jane." "We've been thinking of Jane all night, and you need it now more than she does.

I can tell by your eyes how you are suffering." In the first streak of dawn, which was beginning to glimmer faintly on the window-panes, Mrs.Carr looked as if she had withered overnight.
"It's only my left temple," she said dully, "otherwise I am quite well.
No, dear, I must rub Jane's forehead until she falls asleep.