‘It is nothing,’ he said. ‘Only a drunken woman, as you see.’
The policeman approached the girl and touched her on the shoulder.
‘Come now, just you move on, or I’ll have to run you in,’ he said; and as she spoke rapidly in her own language, he shook his sagacious head and continued, ‘We don’t want none of your parleyvoo. Leave the gentleman alone, d’ye hear, and move on.’
‘The woman is not drunk,’ said Sutherland. ‘She is ill, and—look, she has fainted!’
Overmastered by her excitement, she had indeed fallen into a sort of faint or fit. Sutherland supported her gently, while the crowd, with cries and murmurs, pressed close! round them. In the commotion which ensued Gavrolles slipped away, stepped into a hansom, and was driven off.
‘Keep back—give her air!’ cried Sutherland. ‘Does any one know where she lives?’
At this moment the woman whom he had first seen in her company stepped forward.
‘Yes, monsieur, we lodge together. Look up, Adèle! What ails you?’
‘Help me to take her home,’ said Sutherland, in a low voice.
The policeman called a cab, and Sutherland raised the girl in his arms and placed her in it; then he stepped in himself, followed by the other woman.