Of what was he thinking, while she who had given him so many proofs of
maternal tenderness and devotion was dying a few paces from him? Did
he regret her? was he not thinking rather of the grand and magnificent
existence which awaited him on the other side of the river, at the
Faubourg St. Germain? He turned abruptly round on hearing his friend's
voice.
"It is done," said the doctor; "we have only now to wait the effect
of the mustard. If she feels it, it will be a good sign; if it has no
effect, we will try cupping."
"And if that does not succeed?"
The doctor answered only with a shrug of the shoulders, which showed his
inability to do more.
"I understand your silence, Herve," murmured Noel. "Alas! you told me
last night she was lost."
"Scientifically, yes; but I do not yet despair. It is hardly a year ago
that the father-in-law of one of our comrades recovered from an almost
identical attack; and I saw him when he was much worse than this;
suppuration had set in."
"It breaks my heart to see her in this state," resumed Noel. "Must she
die without recovering her reason even for one moment? Will she not
recognise me, speak one word to me?"
"Who knows? This disease, my poor friend, baffles all foresight.
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