He had begun to compose himself; now he had much ado not to gnash his teeth in the scholar's face.

"Better ?" he ejaculated bitterly.

"What chance have I of being better?
Better?
Are you ?" He began to tremble, his hands on the arms of his chair.

"Otherwise, if you are not, you will soon have cause to know what I feel." "I am better," Basterga answered with fervour.

"I thank Heaven for it." Blondel rose to his feet, his hands still clutching the chair.