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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Monsieur d'Aubrac is in no immediate danger. Still, the services of a good surgeon, as soon as may be ..." "Will it be dangerous to wait till we get to Nant?" "How far is that, madame?" "Twelve miles." Duchemin looked aside at the decrepit conveyance with its unhappy horses, and summed up a conclusion in a shrug. "Millau is nearer, is it not, madame?"
The woman who had spoken to him found and fetched it from no great distance; and its contents enabled Duchemin to improvise a tourniquet, and when the flow of blood was checked, a bandage. During the operation d'Aubrac unostentatiously fainted. The young girl caught her breath, a fluttering hiss. "Don't be alarmed, mademoiselle," Duchemin soothed her.
D'Aubrac came to, while this was being accomplished, begged feebly for water, was given it with a little brandy to boot and, comfortably settled in the rear seat, between Louise de Montalais and her grandmother, relapsed once more into unconsciousness. Learning that Madame de Montalais would drive, Duchemin dissembled a sigh of relief and, standing beside the car, doffed his cap to say good-bye.
Louise had excused herself to sit, Duchemin had no doubt, by the bedside of d'Aubrac, under the duenna-like eye of an old nurse of the family. Being duly encouraged, Duchemin talked about himself, of his wanderings and adventures, all with discretion, with the neatest expurgations, and with an object, leading cunningly round to the subject of New York.
Then, with d'Aubrac disposed as comfortably as might be on the back seat, once again pillowed in a fashion to make any man envious, Duchemin turned to find the other women at his elbow. To the eldest he offered a bow suited to her condition and a hand to help her into the barouche. "Madame ..." Her agitation had measurably subsided.
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