BILLY AND HANS 



of the great change. When he could 

 no longer speak, he beckoned me to 

 lay my head on the same pillow. He 

 died of blood-poisoning, as I found 

 after Billy's death that he also did ; 

 and the identity of the symptoms (of 

 the cause of which I then understood 

 nothing) brought back the memory of 

 that last solitary night when my boy 

 passed from under my care, and his 

 eyes, large and dark like Billy's, grew 

 dim and vacant like his. Billy, too, 

 clung the closer to me as his end 

 approached ; and when the apathy 

 left him almost no recognition of 

 things around, he would grasp one 

 of my fingers with his two paws, and 

 lick it till he tired. It was clear that 

 death was at hand, and on the last 

 afternoon I took him out into the 

 grounds of Villa Borghese to lie in 

 the sunshine, and get perhaps a 



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