George.—Shake hands first. Then give me some advice.
Doctor.—Advice? Are you ill?
George (with an effort).—Truly, you play with me as a cat with a mouse.
Doctor.—Because I know nothing of presentiments.
George.—Did you not tell me that she is not ill?
Doctor.—No, she is wearied.
George.—You speak about it in a strange way and you have no conception of the pain that your words cause me.
Doctor.—Then try to distract her.
George.—What? Who?
Doctor.—Who? Count Drahomir, for instance.