I was enormously, ineffably flattered and delighted, and all the boy
in me wanted to caper around the room and then to fall on Alresca's
neck and dissolve in gratitude to him. But instead of these feats, I
put on a vast seriousness (which must really have been very funny to
behold), and then I thanked Alresca in formal phrases, and then, quite
in the correct professional style, I began to make gentle fun of his
idea of a mysterious complaint, and I asked him for a catalogue of his
symptoms. I perceived that he and Rosa must have previously arranged
that I should be requested to become his doctor.

"There are no symptoms," he replied, "except a gradual loss of
vitality. But examine me."

I did so most carefully, testing the main organs, and subjecting him
to a severe cross-examination.

"Well?" he said, as, after I had finished, I sat down to cogitate.

"Well, Monsieur Alresca, all I can say is that your fancy is too
lively. That is what you suffer from, an excitable fan--"

"Stay, my friend," he interrupted me with a firm gesture. "Before you
go any further, let me entreat you to be frank. Without absolute
candor nothing can be done. I think I am a tolerable judge of faces,
and I can read in yours the fact that my condition has puzzled you."

I paused, taken aback. It had puzzled me. I thought of all that
Rosetta Rosa had said, and I hesitated. Then I made up my mind.