"Man! don't be frightened.... You must have made some mistake. Besides, even if you hadn't, it would not be necessarily fatal."
A companion, to give him still more encouragement, whispered: "Don't mind that pestilent fellow! What does he know about fevers? He never in his life opened a book!"
Nevertheless, he felt a stab in his very heart. He left the Consejos with his face changed, and took a carriage, for he feared that he might faint. He rushed into his wife's room.
"How do you feel?"
"Well," she replied, with a sweet smile.
"Let me take your temperature," said he, hastening to put the thermometer under her arm. His heart beat furiously. Not being able to stay still while the thermometer remained there, he began to walk up and down through the room. At last with trembling hand he took it out, and ran to the shutter, which was closed; he opened it a little way and looked. The temperature had risen a few decimals: it was almost forty-two degrees.
He could not speak a word.
"What makes you so excited about that blessed little tube?" said Maximina. "What is the good of it?"
"I don't know; the doctor sent it to me.... I am going to set down the temperature."
Instead of going to his study, however, he went to his chamber, threw himself face down upon his bed, sobbing.