Indeed,
Dr. Levillier felt as if there was too much life in them, as if the cup
had been filled with wine until the wine ran over. He put his fingers
on the pulse. It was strong and rapid and did not fluctuate, but beat
steadily. He felt the heart. That, too, throbbed strongly. And while he
made his examination Valentine smiled at him.
"I'm all right, you see," Valentine said.
"All right," the doctor echoed, still possessed by the feeling that there
lurked almost a danger in this apparently abounding health.
"What was it all?" Julian asked eagerly. "Was it a trance?"
"A trance?" Valentine said. "Yes, I suppose so."
He put his feet to the floor, stood up, and again stretched all his
limbs. His eyes fell upon Rip, who was still in the corner, huddled up,
his teeth showing, his eyes almost starting out of his head.
"Rip," he said, holding out his hand and slapping his knee, "come here!
Come along! Rip! Rip! What's the matter with him?"
"He thought you were dead," said Julian. "Poor little chap. Rip, it's all
right. Come!"
But the dog refused to be pacified, and still displayed every symptom of
angry fear. At last Valentine, weary of calling the dog, went towards it
and stooped to pick it up.
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