"A progressive paralysis of the medulla oblongata," replied the albino, separating the terrible words, with a certain scientific affectation.
"Oh! The same illness that Spinelli had! So it is serious?"
"Very serious," said the albino sententiously. "Signor knows that there is no cure for that form of paralysis."
"But it is still only in its earliest stage?"
"Yes; but there is no doubt as to its nature. The last time he came here I could already detect that he had difficulty in articulating certain words."
"Ah! you heard him?"
"Yes, signor. His pronunciation was already indefinite, and vacillating."
I encouraged the albino by the extreme and, so to speak, admiring attention that I paid to him. I believe that he would voluntarily have acquainted me with the words that had been pronounced with such difficulty by the illustrious novelist.
"And where is he now?"
"He is at Naples. The doctors are treating him with electricity."