"You feel a little better, do you not?"
"Yes."
"If you are good I promise you that you shall get up for Christmas—in ten days more. You can regain your strength in ten days, if you want to. Drink a little more, Juliana."
She looked at me with surprise mingled with curiosity, making an effort to give me her entire attention. Perhaps she was already tired, perhaps her eyelids began to feel heavy. The raised position was again beginning to cause in her the symptoms of cerebral anemia. She moistened her lips with the wine that I handed her.
"Tell me," I continued, "where would you like to pass your convalescence?"
She smiled feebly.
"At the seaside? Shall I write to Aric to find us a villa? If only the Ginosa villa were free! Do you remember it?"
She smiled feebly again.
"You are tired? Perhaps my voice tires you?"
I perceived that she was on the point of losing consciousness. I supported her, I removed the pillows that raised her, and put her at her ease by lowering her head; helped her with the usual remedies. Very soon she seemed to come to, for she murmured, as if in a dream: