THE LATER LIFE
167
And, almost black in the face, he pulled at his collar.
"Bertha!" he cried, in a hoarse voice.
They were all terrified . . .
He tore open his collar, his tie, his shirt:
"Air!" he implored.
And his eyes started from his head, he staggered, fell into a chair.
Louise rang the bell. The girls screamed for the maids, the butler. Henri flew down the stairs to fetch a doctor.
It was was too late . . .
Van Naghel lay dead, struck down by apoplexy.
