"Good heavens! good heavens! it's coming on her again!" repeated Madame
de Jonquiere in despair. "I had a fear of it; I was not at ease, seeing
her looking so strange. Wait a moment; I will sit down beside her."
But the Sister would not consent: "No, no, madame, sleep a little. I'll
watch over her. You are not accustomed to it: you would end by making
yourself ill as well."
Then she settled herself beside La Grivotte, made her rest her head
against her shoulder, and wiped the blood from her lips. The attack
subsided, but weakness was coming back, so extreme that the wretched
woman was scarcely able to stammer: "Oh, it is nothing, nothing at all; I
am cured, I am cured, completely cured!"
Pierre was thoroughly upset: This sudden, overwhelming relapse had sent
an icy chill through the whole carriage. Many of the passengers raised
themselves up and looked at La Grivotte with terror in their eyes. Then
they dived down into their corners again, and nobody spoke, nobody
stirred any further. Pierre, for his part, reflected on the curious
medical aspect of this girl's case. Her strength had come back to her
over yonder. She had displayed a ravenous appetite, she had walked long
distances with a dancing gait, her face quite radiant the while; and now
she had spat blood, her cough had broken out afresh, she again had the
heavy ashen face of one in the last agony.
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