And yet when nine o'clock the next day came she could not even get to the cab that Perrine had waiting for her. She attempted the few steps from her room to the cab, but would have fallen to the ground had not Perrine held her.
"I must go back," she said weakly. "Don't be anxious ... it will pass."
But it did not pass, and the Baroness, who was watching them depart, had to bring a chair. The moment she dropped into the seat she fainted.
"She must go back and lie down," said the Baroness, rubbing her cold hands. "It is nothing, girl; don't look so scared ... just go and find Carp. The two of us can carry her to her room. You can't go ... not just now."
The Baroness soon had the sick woman in her bed, where she regained consciousness.
"Now you must just stay there in your bed," said the Baroness, kindly. "You can go just as well tomorrow. I'll get Carp to give you a nice cup of bouillon. He loves soup as much as the landlord loves wine; winter and summer he gets up at five o'clock and makes his soup; good stuff it is, too. Few can make better."
Without waiting for a reply, she went to Carp, who was again at his work.
"Will you give me a cup of your bouillon for our patient?" she asked.
He replied with a smile only, but he quickly took the lid from a saucepan and filled a cup with the savory soup.
The Baroness returned with it, carrying it carefully, so as not to spill a drop.