"Yes—I am cold—why do you put ice on my feet?" complained the invalid, and with a quick movement she raised herself up in bed.
Suddenly the delirious woman caught sight of Anselmo, and with a terrible cry she sprung at him with clinched fists.
"There you are, you wretch," she hissed; "where have you put your black coat?"
Just then the virago returned with the doctor.
The latter looked contemptuously at her, and in a gruff voice said:
"Lie down!"
He then beat her bosom, counted her pulse, and shook his head.
"Nothing can be done," he dryly declared; "her strength has been impaired by a fast and dissipated life, and—"
"But, doctor," interrupted Anselmo, "have some compunction for the poor woman. You see she is conscious and understands every word."