There's not an evening, Ma'am, I meet Doctor Toole at the club, but I hear the same report--a little lower--always the same--lower--sinking--and _no hope_.' Here Mrs.Sturk broke out again.
'Now, Madam,' I protest you'll make me regret my visit, unless you please to command yourself.

While the doctors who are about him have got him in hands, there's neither hope for his life, nor for his recovering, for one moment, the use of his speech.

Pray, Madam, hear me.

They state as much themselves.

Now, Madam, I say, we must have a chance for his life, and if that fails, a chance for his speech.