Mary, standing in the door, saw the look of unspeakable horror that stole slowly over his face, then his helpless sinking back among the pillows, and the twitching of his hands as he clenched them convulsively.

Not a word or a groan escaped him, but the wild despair of his set face and staring eyes was more than she could endure.

She rushed out of the room and out of the house to the little loft above the woodshed, where no one could hear her frantic sobbing.

It was hours before she ventured back into the house.
It would only add to his misery to see her distress, she knew, so she left him to the little mother's ministrations.
Anticipating such a result, the surgeons had brought several appliances to make his confinement less irksome.

There was a hammock arrangement with pulleys, by which he might be swung into different positions, and out into a wheeled chair.