And the revolt within him
ceased, for this warm and slumberous sickroom, with its all-pervading
scent of ether, had ended by lulling him into a mere longing for
happiness and peace. All his manhood, erewhile maddened by wrong,
had departed out of him in the neighborhood of that warm bed and that
suffering woman, whom he was nursing under the influence of her feverish
heat and of remembered delights. He leaned over her and pressed her in
a close embrace, while despite her unmoved features her lips wore a
delicate, victorious smile. But Dr Boutarel made his appearance.
"Well, and how's this dear child?" he said familiarly to Muffat, whom he
treated as her husband. "The deuce, but we've made her talk!"
The doctor was a good-looking man and still young. He had a superb
practice among the gay world, and being very merry by nature and ready
to laugh and joke in the friendliest way with the demimonde ladies with
whom, however, he never went farther, he charged very high fees and got
them paid with the greatest punctuality. Moreover, he would put himself
out to visit them on the most trivial occasions, and Nana, who was
always trembling at the fear of death, would send and fetch him two or
three times a week and would anxiously confide to him little infantile
ills which he would cure to an accompaniment of amusing gossip and
harebrained anecdotes.
Pages:
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642