The news he now heard filled him with horror.

It seemed as if the intense wish for Paolo's death had in some way produced a material result without his knowledge; it was as though he had killed his brother by a thought--as though he had had a real share in his death.
He could hardly bear to go and see the wounded man, so strong was the impression that gained possession of him.

His fancy called up pictures of Paolo lying wounded in bed, and he dreaded to face the sight.

He turned away from the table and began to walk up and down the little room.

In a corner his foot struck against something--the drawing board on which he had begun to sketch the night before.