"Alas! yes, my benefactor!" replied the father.
For several minutes, Jondrette had been scrutinizing "the benefactor" in a singular fashion.
As he spoke, he seemed to be examining the other attentively, as though seeking to summon up his recollections. All at once, profiting by a moment when the new-comers were questioning the child with interest as to her injured hand, he passed near his wife, who lay in her bed with a stupid and dejected air, and said to her in a rapid but very low tone:--
"Take a look at that man!"
Then, turning to M. Leblanc, and continuing his lamentations:--
"You see, sir!
All the clothing that I have is my wife''s chemise! And all torn at that!
In the depths of winter!
I can''t go out for lack of a coat.
If I had a coat of any sort, I would go and see Mademoiselle Mars, who knows me and is very fond of me.
Does she not still reside in the Rue de la Tour-des-Dames? Do you know, sir? We played together in the provinces.
I shared her laurels. Celimene would come to my succor, sir!
Elmire would bestow alms on Belisaire!
But no, nothing!②思②兔②在②線②閱②讀②
And not a sou in the house! My wife ill, and not a sou!
My daughter dangerously injured, not a sou!
My wife suffers from fits of suffocation.
It comes from her age, and besides, her nervous system is affected. She ought to have assistance, and my daughter also!