Doña Ángela. Tomás, Tomás!
Dr. Tomás. Well, at any rate he hastened her death. You heard how bitterly he accused himself in his delirium. Don't let us forge illusions. It was a real access of——
Doña Ángela. [Sobbing.] Lorenzo, my husband!
Dr. Tomás. The crisis may return, for to-day——
Doña Ángela. Yes, I know what his intention is. Ah, doctor, how unfortunate we are! How unfortunate my poor Lorenzo is!
Dr. Tomás. What is he doing now?
Doña Ángela. He is quite calm. He writes, and walks about. He wants to be continually with Inés and me, because solitude terrifies him. A moment ago he stared at me mournfully, but with such tenderness, and kissed me, murmuring, 'poor Ángela.'
Dr. Tomás. You must not contradict him.
Doña Ángela. No, doctor. We agree with him in everything.
Dr. Tomás. And he still persists in the same idea?