His eyes rolled wildly.

He had not removed his clothes, but had torn them away from his breast.
"H'm! h'm!" muttered the doctor, searching in his bag for his bloodletting instruments.

Then he approached the bed, and laid his fingers on the invalid's pulse.
At the touch of his cold hand the patient suddenly sat upright and uttered a cry of terror: "Who are you ?" "I am the doctor--the county physician--Dr.Tromfszky.

Pray, Herr Count, let me see your tongue." Instead of his tongue, the count exhibited a powerful fist.
"What do you want here?
Who brought you here ?" he demanded.
"Pray, pray be calm, Herr Count," soothingly responded the doctor, who was inclined to look upon this aggressive exhibition as a result of the fever.

"Allow me to examine your pulse.