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作者: Charles Dickens

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"Would he remember what took place in the relapse?" asked Mr.
Lorry, with natural hesitation.
The Doctor looked desolately round the room, shook his head, and
answered, in a low voice, "Not at all."
"Now, as to the future," hinted Mr. Lorry.
"As to the future," said the Doctor, recovering firmness, "I
should have great hope. As it pleased Heaven in its mercy to
restore him so soon, I should have great hope. He, yielding under
the pressure of a complicated something, long dreaded and long
vaguely foreseen and contended against, and recovering after the
cloud had burst and passed, I should hope that the worst was
over."
"Well, well! That's good comfort. I am thankful!" said Mr. Lorry.
"I am thankful!" repeated the Doctor, bending his head with
reverence.
"There are two other points," said Mr. Lorry, "on which I am
anxious to be instructed. I may go on?"
"You cannot do your friend a better service." The Doctor gave him
his hand.

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