now Cristóbal says that they have had a consultation, and the doctors all agree it may be pneumonia.
Manolo. That is something at least.
Adelaida. But if they tell that to me, the pneumonia must already be advanced. He was delirious all night. All night long he dreamed that I was lying at his side.
Manolo. Pshaw! To be expected.
Adelaida. But he is so proper, so reserved. Something surely has affected his mind. He will die, I am certain.
Luisa. Don't you exaggerate his condition?
Manolo. Men have recovered from pneumonia before now.
Adelaida. He never will; he is too respectable. He is a perfect gentleman!
Manolo. I cannot see why that should aggravate the complaint.
Adelaida. No, it is never safe to predict. He will die, that is certain. Then what will become of me? Will you do me a favor? That is why I am here. You must forgive me, but in an emergency such as this, one falls back on one's friends.
Luisa. Do tell us in what way we can be of service.
Adelaida. I sent at once to ascertain whether he would have any objection, under the circumstances, to my coming to the house; I had never, you may imagine, set foot inside the door. He lives alone with two servants, a man and a woman, who are both married—to each other—besides that, they are mature. But that makes no difference. I should not have ventured even under the protection of my brother, though he had resided with a regiment.
Manolo. A regiment would have augmented the risk.
Adelaida. I am not in a trifling mood. Pardon my failure to smile.
