Marcello, weak as he was, had died under ether, and that was the end.

Corbario trembled from head to foot.
The clock struck the third quarter, but no other sound broke the stillness of the near noon-tide.

Yes, Marcello must be dead.
Suddenly, in the silence, came the sharp buzz of the instrument.

He leapt in his seat as if something had struck him unawares, and then, instantly controlling himself, he grasped the receiver and held it to his ear.
"Signor Corbario ?" came the question.
"Yes, himself." "The hospital.

The operation has been successful.