"What have I done then? What are you scolding me for?"
Mother Toulouche, big Ernestine, and the wrathful Nibet stared at one another, taken aback—then they understood: two hours had gone by, and Cranajour no longer remembered what had happened!
Decidedly he was more innocent than a new-born babe! There was nothing whatever to be done with such an idiot, that was certain!
VI
IN THE OPPOSITE SENSE
When Jérôme Fandor had been precipitated into the Seine so unexpectedly and with such violence he kept control of his wits: he did not utter a cry as he fell head foremost into the darkling river. He was an excellent swimmer: all aching as he was, he let himself go with the current and presently reached the sheltering arch of the Pont Neuf. There he took breath for a minute:
"Queer!" was all he murmured. Then with regular strokes he made for the steep bank of the Seine opposite. Quitting the river, he secreted himself behind a heap of stones which lay on the quay. He took off his soaked garments and wrung the water out of them. This done, and clad in what looked like dry clothes, Fandor walked along the quay, hailed a passing cabman half asleep on his seat, jumped inside, and gave his address to the Jehu.
When he arrived at La Capitale on the Friday morning a boy approached him, and whispered mysteriously: