"Oh, she is dead," replied the old man. "She died with a smile upon her
face. I gave her half a cup full of your medicine filled up with water.
She was silent for a long while. Then she said: 'I have now no pain.'
And then: 'Give me more.' She smiled when I gave her another cup of
your good medicine. And then she slept. And I knew she had no pain
because she smiled. And as she slept she died. And when we buried her
the smile was on her face. You are a Great Doctor and your medicine is
very good. Good Fortune has come to the people that you are here. Can a
man smile who is in pain? Does not a smile mean pleasure? Ah, but that
is a good medicine."
"Give me back that bottle," said Warner, and his voice sounded strangely
weak.
"Yes, Great Doctor, it is indeed a precious medicine."