"What! was there not a gentleman here just now, saying that my relatives had sent him?"
"Will you still stand me out?" said she. "Upon my word, do you know where you ought to be sent?—To the asylum at Charenton. You see men—"
"Elie Magus, Remonencq, and—"
"Oh! as for Remonencq, you may have seen him, for he came up to tell me that my poor Cibot is so bad that I must clear out of this and come down. My Cibot comes first, you see. When my husband is ill, I can think of nobody else. Try to keep quiet and sleep for a couple of hours; I have sent for Dr. Poulain, and I will come up with him. . . . Take a drink and be good—"
"Then was there no one in the room just now, when I waked? . . ."
"No one," said she. "You must have seen M. Remonencq in one of your looking-glasses."
"You are right, Mme. Cibot," said Pons, meek as a lamb.
"Well, now you are sensible again. . . . Good-bye, my cherub; keep quiet, I shall be back again in a minute."
When Pons heard the outer door close upon her, he summoned up all his remaining strength to rise.
"They are cheating me," he muttered to himself, "they are robbing me! Schmucke is a child that would let them tie him up in a sack."