He approached her bedside on tip-toe; the thawing snow fell from his boots and left little discoloured streams on the carpet.
"Felicitas?"
She raised her left hand and motioned to him to come nearer, and he dragged a chair close to the bed. There was a night-table standing beside it, with bottles and phials of every description; one was empty, and labelled, "Cure for toothache--Not to be taken." This admonition must have induced her to drink it.
"Felicitas?" he repeated.
Then she slowly raised her large dim eyes and stared at him, while a bitter smile played about her mouth.
"Felicitas, pull yourself together," he exhorted, feeling uneasy.
She stammered Paulchen's name, and looked into vacancy again. A reflection of death seemed to lie on this white face, rigid from anguish.
Leo would have sunk on his knees beside her, deeply moved and anxious, had not the doctor's words hardened and steeled him against her.
"Leo?" she whispered, without looking at him.
"What can I do for you?"