Tánya embraced her husband, and, pressing against him as if to defend him against the apparition, covered his eyes with her hand.
"You are ill," she sobbed, trembling all over. "Forgive me, darling, but for a long time I have fancied you were unnerved in some way.... You are ill, ... psychically, Andrusha."
The shudder communicated itself to him. He looked once more at the chair, now empty, and suddenly felt weakness in his arms and legs. He began to dress. "It is nothing, Tánya, nothing, ..." he stammered, and still shuddered. "But I am a little unwell.... It is time to recognise it."
"I have noticed it for a long time, and father noticed it," she said, trying to restrain her sobs. "You have been speaking so funnily to yourself, and smiling so strangely, ... and you do not sleep. O, my God, my God, save us!" she cried in terror. "But do not be afraid, Andrusha, do not fear, ... for God's sake do not be afraid...."
She also dressed.... It was only as he looked at her that Kovrin understood the danger of his position, and realised the meaning of the Black Monk and of their conversations. It became plain to him that he was mad.
Both, themselves not knowing why, dressed and went into the hall; she first, he after her. There they found Yegor Semiónovitch in his dressing-gown. He was staying with them, and had been awakened by Tánya's sobs.
"Do not be afraid, Andrusha," said Tánya, trembling as if in fever. "Do not be afraid ... father, this will pass off ... it will pass off."
Kovrin was so agitated that he could hardly speak. But he tried to treat the matter as a joke. He turned to his father-in-law and attempted to say: "Congratulate me ... it seems I have gone out of my mind." But his lips only moved, and he smiled bitterly.
At nine o'clock they put on his overcoat and a fur cloak, wrapped him up in a shawl, and drove him to the doctor's. He began a course of treatment.