The Frenchman was a little puzzled by so much English all at once, and relieved himself by looking at the card.
"Ah, c'est ça, Meestare Cr--Cr--Craw," pronounced the doctor, arriving with satisfaction at the name after some stammering. "And Madame what has she?"
"Malade," briefly responded Mark. "Elle a une--une--lump--come in the--the (what's French for side, I wonder?) in the côté. Ici, Messeu," touching himself; "mais il est très petite encore; no larger than a--a--petite pois."
Clearly the gentleman did not understand. Mark had drawn him aside, so that they were speaking apart from Caroline.
"A-t'elle d'enfants, Madame?"
"Oh, oui, oui," responded Mark, at a venture, not catching a syllable of the question, the Frenchman seemed to speak so rapidly.
"Et combien? I ask, sare, how many; and the age of them; the age!" "Three-and-twenty. Vingt-trois."
"Vingt-trois!" echoed the doctor, pushing up his glasses. "Mais, n'est pas possible. I say it not possible, sare, that Madame have twenty-three children."
"Children!" shouted Mark, "I thought you said age. She has not any children; pas d'enfants, Messeu. She found of it before we quitted England--avant nous partons d'Angleterre."
Monsieur Le Bleu tried hard to understand. "Where you say it is, sare, the mal? Est-ce que c'est une blessure?"