But she had been unsettled by what had happened in the early evening, and unstrung by her great anxiety for the Count's safety.

Her own words sounded in her ear before she knew that she was going to speak them.
"I am sure that something dreadful is going to happen," she continued after a moment's pause.

"He will go mad in that horrible prison, raving mad, so that they will have to--to hold him--" she sobbed and then recovered herself by an effort.

"Or else--he will fall ill and die, after it--" Here she broke down completely and stopping in the middle of the street began crying bitterly, clutching at Schmidt's arm as though to keep from falling.
"I should not wonder," he said, but she fortunately did not catch the words.
He was very sorry for the poor girl, and felt inclined to take her in his arms and carry her to her home, for he saw that she was weak and exhausted as well as overcome by her anxiety.

Before resorting to such a measure, however, he thought it best to try to encourage her to walk on.
"Nothing that one expects, ever happens," he said confidently, and passing his arm through hers, as though to lead her away.