atches
the process with a certain interest. I ask:

"Did I hurt you? Is it very unpleasant?"

Bouchard gives a melancholy smile and shakes his head:

"Oh, no, not at all! In fact it rather amuses me. It makes a few minutes
pass. The day is so long...."

XXIII

THOUGHTS OF PROSPER RUFFIN

... God! How awful it is in this carriage! Who is it who is groaning
like that? It's maddening! And then, all this would never have happened
if they had only brought the coffee at the right time. Well now, a
wretched 77... oh, no! Who is it who is groaning like that? God, another
jolt! No, no, man, we are not salad. Take care there. My kidneys are all
smashed.

Ah! now something is dripping on my nose. Hi! You up there, what's
happening? He doesn't answer. I suppose it's blood, all this mess.

Now again, some one is beginning to squeal like a pig. By the way, can
it be me? What! it was I who was groaning! Upon my word, it's a little
too strong, that! It was I myself who was making all the row, and I did
not know it. It's odd to hear oneself screaming.

Ah! now it's stopping, their beastly motor.

Look, there's the sun! What's that tree over there? I know, it's a
Japanese pine. Well, you see, I'm a gardener, old chap. Oh, oh, oh! My
back! What will Felicie say to me?

Look, there's Felicie coming down to the washing trough. She pretends
not to see me.... I will steal behind the elder hedge. Felicie! Felicie!
I have a piece of a 77 in my kidneys. I like her best in her blue
bodice.

What are you putting over my nose, you people? It stinks horribly. I am
choking, I tell you. Felicie, Felicie. Put on your blue bodice with the
white spots, my little Feli... Oh, but... oh, but...!

Oh, the Whitsuntide bells already! God--the bells already... the Whitsun
bells... the bells....

XXIV

I remember him very well, although he was not long with us. Indeed I
think that I shall never forget him, and yet he stayed such a short
time....

When he arrived, we told him that an operation was necessary, and he
made a movement with his head, as if to say that it was our business,
not his.

We operated, and as soon as he recovered consciousness, he went off
again into a dream which was like a glorious delirium, silent and
haughty.

His breathing was so impeded by blood that it sounded like groaning; but
his eyes were full of a strange serenity. That look was never with us.

I had to uncover and dress his wounds several times;