Danilo's face fell. At that moment the doctor came in.
It was not possible. The doctor would not hear to such a thing, and he scolded Danilo gently as one scolds a sick child.
That night Danilo's fever increased. He was restless; nothing pleased him. The doctor said next day to Stillman:
"I don't understand ... something must have irritated him. He is troubled mentally."
"It is the wedding. I'm afraid he has set his heart upon it."
"Nonsense! Doctor Danilo has had enough professional experience to know that.... Why, my dear fellow, he is a full-grown man, you must remember."
"Yes, and at heart a child.... He is like all big people."
Two more days dragged by. Danilo grew no better; in fact, he was worse, if anything.
"I can't make it out," the doctor admitted. "Physically he seems everything that one could hope for, but his mind is straining at something.... Perhaps, after all, you are right. Well, I fancy we will have to risk the excitement."
When they told Danilo he fell back upon his pillow and his face grew suddenly white.