"Well, old chap...?"
Halloa, he's very affectionate!
"We may have to—amputate...!"
From the depths of my torpor, I have understood. "Yes, take it off! Take it off!" I implore them.
"That's right! Very sensible!" He nodded. "A leg! They make such excellent substitutes! And then...."
He emphasised this point: "You'll suffer no more, you know!"
Oh, how well he knows my weak spot. No more suffering—or fever....
How did it all happen? I had no notion of anything. I came round from the chloroform to find myself in my bed. My father said to me, with tears in his eyes:
"That's all over, Michel, you're saved!"