Possibly he was mistaken, possibly this was some mere indisposition at which the doctor would smile.

One must hope and wait.

And again he went off and again he came back; and amidst the heavy silence nothing more clearly bespoke the torture of anxious fear than the rhythmical footsteps of that tall old man who was thus awaiting Destiny.
The door opened, and Victorine came in breathless.

"I found the doctor, here he is," she gasped.
With his little pink face and white curls, his discreet paternal bearing which gave him the air of an amiable prelate, Doctor Giordano came in smiling; but on seeing that room and all the anxious people waiting in it, he turned very grave, at once assuming the expression of profound respect for all ecclesiastical secrets which he had acquired by long practice among the clergy.

And when he had glanced at the sufferer he let but a low murmur escape him: "What, again! Is it beginning again!" He was probably alluding to the knife thrust for which he had recently tended Dario.