Velchaninov’s aching chest. "There are no other compresses, and plates, I swear on my honour, will be even better: they were laid on Pyotr Kuzmitch, I saw it with my own eyes, and did it with my own hands. One may die of it, you know. Drink your tea, swallow it; never mind about scalding yourself; life is too precious . . . for one to be squeamish."
He quite flustered Mavra, who was half asleep; the plates were changed every three or four minutes. After the third plate and the second cup of tea, swallowed at a gulp, Velchaninov felt a sudden relief
"If once they've shifted the pain, thank God, it's a good sign!" cried Pavel Pavlovitch, and he ran joyfully to fetch a fresh plate and a fresh cup of tea.
"If only we can ease the pain. If only we can keep it under!" he kept repeating.
Half an hour later the pain was much less, but the sick man was so exhausted that in spite of Pavel Pavlovitch's entreaties he refused to "put up with just one more nice little plate."
He was so weak that everything was dark before his eyes.
"Sleep, sleep," he repeated in a faint voice.
"To be sure," Pavel Pavlovitch assented.
"You'll stay the night. . . . What time is it?"
"It’s nearly two o'clock, it's a quarter to."
"You'll stay the night."
"I will, I will."
A minute later the sick man called Pavel Pavlovitch again.
"You, you," he muttered, when the latter had run up and was bending over him; "you are better than I am ! I understand it all, all. . . . Thank you."
"Sleep, sleep," whispered Pavel Pavlovitch, and he hastened on tiptoe to his sofa.
As he fell asleep the invalid heard Pavel Pavlovitch noiselessly making up a bed for himself and taking off his clothes. Finally, putting out the candle, and almost holding his breath for fear of waking the patient, he stretched himself on his sofa.
There is no doubt that Velchaninov did sleep and that he fell asleep very soon after the candle was put out; he remembered this clearly afterwards. But all the time he was asleep, up to the very moment that he woke up, he dreamed that he was not asleep, and that in spite of his exhaustion he could not get to sleep. At last he began to dream that he was in a sort of waking delirium, and that he could not drive away the phan
