"Three."
The conversation languishes. I get up and say: "Good-bye till to-morrow, Gregoire."
"Ah! you will hurt me again to-morrow."
I reassure him, or at least I try to reassure him. Then, that I may not go away leaving a bad impression, I ask:
"How did you get wounded?"
"Well, down there in the plain, with the others...."
That is all. I go away. Gregoire's eyes follow me for a moment, and I cannot even say whether he is pleased or annoyed by my visit.
Good-bye, poor Gregoire. I cross the ward and go to sit down by Auger.
Auger is busy writing up his "book."
It is a big ledger some one has given him, in which he notes the important events of his life.