‘You are sure? You know?’
‘I know, madame. Be tranquil. Leave him. He could not have done better. It is perfect.’
‘Perhaps I should fetch a doctor?’ I suggested.
‘It is not worth the pain,’ she said, with conviction. ‘You would have vexations uselessly. Leave him.’
I gazed at her, studying her, and I was satisfied. With her fluffly locks, and her simple eyes, and her fragile face, and her long hands, she had, nevertheless, the air of knowing profoundly her subject. She was a great expert on males and all that appertained to them, especially their vices. I was the callow amateur. I was compelled to listen with respect to this professor in the professor’s garb. I was impressed, in spite of myself.
‘One might arrange him more comfortably,’ she said.
And we lifted the senseless victim, and put him on his back, and straightened his limbs, as though he had been a corpse.
‘How handsome he is!’ murmured my visitor, half closing her eyes.
‘You think so?’ I said politely, as if she had been praising one of my private possessions.
‘Oh yes. We are neighbours, madame. I have frequently remarked him, you understand, on the stairs, in the street.’