I turned to the Countess; Wetter was already half-way to the door. He looked back over his shoulder, and his face was impatient. My eyes met hers, I read the fear that was in hers. I was strangely fearful myself, appalled at such a breaking of our dream.
"Good-bye," I said. "I'll come again soon; to-morrow, some time to-morrow."
"Yes, yes," said she, but hardly as though she believed me.
"Good-bye." I took her hand and kissed it; Wetter looked on, saying nothing. The thought of concealment did not occur to me. I kissed her hand two or three times.
"Shall you find him alive?" she murmured, in speculation more than in question.
"I don't know. Good-bye."
She herself led me to where Wetter was standing.
"It's his breathing," said Wetter. "He can't get his breath; can't speak at all. Come along."
"I'm ready; I'll follow you."
As I reached the door I turned. She was not looking at me; she had sat down in a chair by the fire and was gazing fixedly at the flames. I have had that picture of her often in my mind.