"I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. ’ Gerald was staring at her, an arrested expression on his face. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. He loved you.
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