"I cannot lie on my back because I have hurt one foot.

I must tend the furnace, I must go on with my work, I must make the tests, I must--" He stopped short and bit his lip, turning white again as a spasm of excruciating pain shot along his right side, from his foot upwards.
Marietta bent over him, full of anxiety.
"You are suffering!" she said tenderly.

"You must not try to move." "It is nothing," he answered through his closed teeth.

"It will pass, I daresay." "It will not pass to-day," said Nella.

"But I will bring you some syrup of poppies.