Captain Fischer was reclining on the sofa, still in his shirt-sleeves, with his boots off. Von Wedel and Glotz were at the flower-adorned supper-table prepared for Chérie's birthday party, and were eating sandwiches in large mouthfuls. Their grey helmets were on the piano; their belts on a chair. Chérie stood cowering in a corner near the door.
"Where is Mireille?" cried Louise; and Chérie replied, "She is all right. He"—indicating the captain on the sofa—"has sent her to fetch him some slippers." Her lips quivered. "I wanted to go with her but they would not let me."
"I feel as if we were in a dream," murmured Louise.
"Ah," cried the man on the sofa, catching sight of Louise, "here is my good Samaritan." He crossed the room in his stockinged feet and took the basin out of her hands. He looked round a moment uncertain where to put it; then he drew up a satin chair and placed the basin of water on it.
"Gut," he said. "And what have we here?" He took the little bottle from her hand. "'Perchlor. of mercury, 1.0 gramme.' That is right." He shook one of the little pink tablets out on his palm and dropped it in the water. "Now, charming lady, will you be a sister of mercy to a poor wounded man?" He bared his arm and sat down on the sofa again, making room for her beside him; but she stood in front of him, and dipping some pieces of cotton in the water she bathed the injured arm.
The door opened and Mireille came in with a pair of her father's slippers in her hand. When she saw her mother stooping over the man's arm her small face flushed scarlet. She flung the slippers down and, running to the corner where Chérie was standing, she hid her face on Chérie's arm.
"Ei, ei, the vixen!" laughed Von Wedel, taking another sandwich. "Now we want something to drink. Not these syrups," he added, pushing the grenadine and orangeade aside. "Let us have some champagne. Eh, Glotz? What do you say to that?"
"And some brandy," said Fischer. "This scratch is deucedly painful."
There was a moment's silence. Then Chérie, taking a step towards the door, said, "I will fetch some brandy."
"I'll come too," said Mireille.