That night he cried as he had never cried before.

Not violently; he was too weak for that, but with a sound like the tongue-tied whimper of some tiny animal.

Swinny had slept through worse noise many a night.

Now he cried from midnight to cock-crow; and on Tuesday morning Swinny was crying too.

He had had one of his "little attacks," after which he began to show signs of rapid wasting.
He had got something which Mrs.Nevill Tyson had never heard of--"marasmus," the doctor called it.