The
sister's words had made Benedetto form a definite resolution, which he
had been thinking about ever since the first light of day had shown him
the walls of the room, decorated with mythological subjects, in the
style of the House of Livia. He longed with an intense longing for his
little old room. There he would see his friends, the common people, who
wished to visit him, and that other person, if she came. He begged to
speak with the gardener, with the servants, and he told them of his
wish. When they refused to move him, he besought them for the love of
God to do so, and he so worked upon their feelings that they finally
consented, at the risk of being dismissed from service. "These are
indeed the ideas of a Saint!" thought the sister. Benedetto made the
journey in the arms of the gardener and of one of the men-servants; he
was wrapped in blankets, and held the Crucifix in his hands. His delight
at once more finding himself in his poor little room was so great that
all thought he was improving. But still the thermometer rose.
After one o'clock the thermometer registered thirty-nine.
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