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Updated: June 4, 2025
This maid was about twenty-five years of age, a big, strapping girl from Burgundy, and she was now sleeping peacefully, in spite of the uproar in the street, the noise of the fire-engines, which had arrived at last, and the wild shrieks of the occupants of the house. Sohege shook the maid, whilst I explained to my grandmother the reason of the tumult and why we were in her room.
My amiable companion was tall, slight, and elegant, but not strong. I besought him to go down and fetch a hammer, a hatchet, or something, but just at that moment, a newcomer wrenched the door open by a violent plunge with his shoulder against it. This new arrival was no other than M. Sohege, a friend of mine.
With the help of Charles Haas and of Arthur Meyer we put my grandmother on Sohege's back in spite of herself. He was of medium height, and she was extremely tall, so that her long legs touched the ground, and I was afraid she might get them injured. Sohege therefore took her in his arms, and Charles Haas carried her legs.
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