'He won't be at home now.'
'When he comes back, then.' And she shut her eyes again.
The doctor only came at half-past four. He stood at the door of the little room, scenting the feverish air.
'You might have called me before,' he said to Margherita roughly.
'Oh, sir, if I could tell you——'
He told her to hold her tongue. The invalid was looking at him, her lovely, gentle eyes wide open, her hand held out to him. The strong man, with the massive head, the good-natured, ugly face, got a look of great tenderness before the fragile creature Affection welled up from his heart. He felt at once that the fever would soon be over: it was falling already, with the suddenness of malaria; but the thorn of that miserable existence, trembling between life and death, victim of a disease he could not find out the meaning of, would stay in his heart.
'Now I am going to order a medicine for you,' he said gently to the sick girl, holding her hand in his.
'No, do not,' she said softly.
'Don't you want any?'
'Listen, listen!' she said, pulling him to her to let him hear better—'take me away!' She trembled as she said this, and Antonio, paling suddenly, struck by an indescribable emotion, could not even answer. 'Take me away!' she added humbly, as if imploring him.