"Mine have been taken away, too. Wait a minute, old chap, let me look at it. Does it itch?"
"Yes, it feels like rats gnawing at me."
"If it feels like rats, it's all right. Mine feels like rats, too. Don't you want to scratch?"
"Yes, but they say I mustn't."
"No, of course, you mustn't.... But you can always tap on the dressing a little with your finger. That is a relief."
Lapointe leans over and examines Ropiteau's large wound.
"Old chap, it's getting on jolly well. Same here; I'll show you presently. It's red, the skin is beginning to grow again. But it is thin, very thin."
Lapointe sits down to have his dressing cut away, then he makes a half turn towards Ropiteau.
"You see—getting on famously."
Ropiteau admires unreservedly.