The wounded man obstinately shook his head. “Here, old boy! nobody’ll come here. All those who visit downstairs never come up here. I’m only telling you. I don’t really care, you know.”
“You may be sure they will come.”
“Really, I don’t know why I have been placed here alone in the room.”
“Probably because you must have quiet.”
“Whether they come or not, it’s all one to me.”
Réchoussat frowned to show his pride, then he added, sighing:
“You can begin now with your bag of tricks.”
As a matter of fact Corporal Têtard was ready. He had lighted a candle-end and in one movement drew back the sheets.
Réchoussat’s body was revealed, extraordinarily thin, but Têtard scarcely noticed it, and Réchoussat had for three months now been fairly accustomed to his misery. He knew quite well that to have a piece of shell in the back is a serious matter, and that, when a man’s legs and abdomen are paralysed, he is not going to recover quickly.
“Feeling better?” asked Têtard in the course of his operation.