me again. This is my last will!" he replied convulsively.
And with trembling hand he gave the doctor a bunch of keys.
"There is the dispatch box. Please open it, and put the will in."
The doctor obeyed his wish, without looking at Olga Vseslavovna. She,
on her part, did not look at him. Shrugging her shoulders at her
husband's last words, she remained motionless, noticing nothing except
his sufferings. His sufferings, it seemed, tortured her.
Meanwhile the dying man followed the doctor with anxious eyes, and as
soon as the latter closed the large traveling dispatch box he
stretched out his hand to him for the keys.
"So long as I am alive, I will keep them!" he murmured, putting the
bunch of keys away in his pocket. "And when I am dead, I intrust them
to you, Edouard Vicentevitch. Take care of them, as a last service to
me!" And he turned his face once more to the wall.
"And now, leave me alone! The pain is less. Perhaps I shall go to
sleep. Leave me!"
"My friend! Permit me to remain near you," the general's wife began,
bending tenderly over her husband.
"Go!" he cried sharply. "Leave me in peace, I tell you!"
She rose, trembling. The doctor hastily offered her his arm. She left
the room, leaning heavily on him, and once more covering her face with
her handkerchief, in tragic style.
"Be calm, your excellency!" whispered the doctor sympathetically, only
half conscious of what he was saying.
"These rooms have been prepared for you. You also need to rest, after
such a long journey."
"Oh, I am not thinking about myself. I am so sorry for him. Poor,
poor, senseless creature. How much I have suffered at his hands. He
was always so suspicious, so hard to get on with. And whims and
fantasies without end. You know, doctor, I have sometimes even thought
he was not in full possession of his faculties."
"Hm!" murmured the doctor, coughing in confusion.
"Take this strange change of his will, for instance," the general's
wife continued, not waiting for a clearer expression of sympathy.
"Take his manner toward me. And for what reason?"
"Yes, it is very sad," murmured the doctor.
"Tell me, doctor, does he expect his son and daughter?"
"Only his daughter, Anna Iurievna. She promised to come, with her
oldest children. A telegram came yesterday. We have been expecting her
all day."
"What is the cause of this sudden tenderness? They have not seen each
other for ten years. Does he expect her husband,
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