Then my brother came in, leaning heavily on two sticks, and moving slowly.

He was not more than ten years older than I was, but the shock of his accident and subsequent sufferings had aged him terribly.

His hair had gone prematurely gray, and his face was deeply lined.

I stepped forward and took him by the hand.
"My dear Ralph," I said, "this is really first-class.

The last time I saw you, you scarcely expected to be out of your bath-chair in six months." "I am getting on, Austen," he answered, "thanks! I am getting on.