When the Count approached
her bedside her eyes, which had been wandering incessantly round
and round the room before, settled on his face with a dreadful
stare of terror, which I shall remember to my dying day. The
Count sat down by her, felt her pulse and her temples, looked at
her very attentively, and then turned round upon the doctor with
such an expression of indignation and contempt in his face, that
the words failed on Mr. Dawson's lips, and he stood for a moment,
pale with anger and alarm--pale and perfectly speechless.
His lordship looked next at me.
"When did the change happen?" he asked.
I told him the time.
"Has Lady Glyde been in the room since?"
I replied that she had not. The doctor had absolutely forbidden
her to come into the room on the evening before, and had repeated
the order again in the morning.
"Have you and Mrs. Rubelle been made aware of the full extent of
the mischief?" was his next question.
We were aware, I answered, that the malady was considered
infectious. He stopped me before I could add anything more.
"It is typhus fever," he said.
In the minute that passed, while these questions and answers were
going on, Mr. Dawson recovered himself, and addressed the Count
with his customary firmness.
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