"You mustn't die! you shall not die, Dr. Mälzer!" she cried, jumping to her feet.
"Sit down, child," he said with a laugh; "don't excite yourself about me. A friend of mine once broke the backbone of a wild-cat with one blow of a stick. The cat couldn't run away, couldn't cry or do anything till the next blow came. It just crouched on all-fours, coughing and choking. That's like me. There's nothing to be done. You had better go, child. I've made my peace, but when I look at you it becomes difficult again."
She turned her face away not to show her tears.
"Must I?" she asked.
"Must?" he laughed again. "I'll devour greedily every minute of your presence here as the hungry beggar devours the crumbs he turns out of his pockets. You sat, didn't you, at the end of the first form on the left? ... Yes, of course I remember. I said to myself, 'What extraordinary eyes!' They are like the eyes of the magic dog in Andersen's fairy tale, which grew bigger the more they were asked not to."
It was Lilly's turn to laugh.
"There, you see," he said, "I've made you merry again. You shall not carry away from here nothing but the memory of a corpse and death's-head. We enjoyed our lectures, didn't we?"
Lilly answered with a sigh.
"You gasped for sheer longing when I talked of Italy. I used to think: she gasps like yourself, though she has no need to gasp."
"You want to go there very much, doctor?"