not lose her head for one moment. She came and went like a diligent ant, like a furtive little mouse.
âDonât start getting upset, Ãlise. I tell you itâs nothing to worry about.â
âWhy is he sick? Itâs my milk, Iâm sure it is. His mother has always said I wouldnât be able to feed him â¦â
Désiré was drumming on the window-pane with his fingers, through the lace curtain which deadened the noise, and he was delighted to be able to announce:
âHereâs Dr. Van der Donck.â
The doctor took an age to climb the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. He knocked on the door. He came in.
âWell, Madame Mamelin?â
She was already less frightened. Ashamed of her fears, she made an effort to smile. He had come on a Sunday and he deserved her gratitude.
âI donât know, Doctor ⦠It seems to me ⦠He has just thrown up his milk, and ever since this morning Iâve had the impression that heâs so hot ⦠Valérie! â¦â
Valérie, who had understood, brought the bowl of warm water and the towel, and the doctor slowly, carefully washed his white hands loaded with a gold signet-ring.
âDésiré!â
He did not understand as quickly as Valérie. The light was failing.
âThe lampâ¦â
He lit it and the doctor sat down by the cradle, in the leisurely manner of somebody with plenty of time at his disposal.
âLetâs have a look at the little fellowâ¦â
He took a watch out of his pocket. Dr. Van der Donck was fair-haired, slightly bald, with a tapering moustache and clothes in broadcloth.
âWhen did you feed him last?â
Respectfully she replied:
âAt two oâclock, Doctor.â
âCome, now ⦠Come, now ⦠donât worry â¦â
He knew that she was just a nervous child frightened by all the ghosts created by an anxious mind. And yet ⦠He frowned ⦠He examined the child â¦
âWill you undress him for me?â
Désiré himself, whose head seemed to touch the ceiling, stood rooted to the spot behind him. More mummers went by outside. A military band passed somewhere.
âLoosen it⦠Good ⦠Ssh!â¦â
He listened ⦠He counted ⦠He frowned. He smiled so as not to frighten the mother â¦
âCome, now, Madame, itâs nothing serious ⦠Donât worry ⦠A touch of bronchitis, such as lots of new-born babies get at this time of yearâ¦â
âThatâs serious, isnât it, Doctor?â
She could still summon up the courage to smile so as not to annoy him with her fears, when he had come on a Sunday, a carnival Sunday.
âNo, not at all ⦠With a few precautions â¦â
He put on his gold pince-nez to write.
âWipe the table, Valérie.â
He read over what he had written, and added a couple of lines.
âThere you are, Madame. In a few days there wonât be a sign of it left. Above all, donât get into a panic. I tell you itâs nothing to worry about. Incidentally ⦠Whereâs that milk he vomited after his last feed?â
âValérie!â
It was Valérie who came and went. Then Désiré followed the doctor out on to the stairs.
âDoctorâ¦â
âNothing to worry about. I should just like to have an analysis of the milk.â
He held out a little phial he had in his pocket.
âIf you can, without alarming her ⦠Take it tomorrow morning to the Pierson laboratoryâ¦â
She would be the only one in the whole family whose milk wasnât good. Madame Mamelin had warned him: â That girl â¦â
âCome, now! Come, now! Everything will be all right, youâll see. Sheâs rather highly strung, you understand? Gets worried about the slightest thing.â
More mummers ⦠He shut the door â¦
When Désiré got back, he found Valérie trying in vain to
âDonât start getting upset, Ãlise. I tell you itâs nothing to worry about.â
âWhy is he sick? Itâs my milk, Iâm sure it is. His mother has always said I wouldnât be able to feed him â¦â
Désiré was drumming on the window-pane with his fingers, through the lace curtain which deadened the noise, and he was delighted to be able to announce:
âHereâs Dr. Van der Donck.â
The doctor took an age to climb the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. He knocked on the door. He came in.
âWell, Madame Mamelin?â
She was already less frightened. Ashamed of her fears, she made an effort to smile. He had come on a Sunday and he deserved her gratitude.
âI donât know, Doctor ⦠It seems to me ⦠He has just thrown up his milk, and ever since this morning Iâve had the impression that heâs so hot ⦠Valérie! â¦â
Valérie, who had understood, brought the bowl of warm water and the towel, and the doctor slowly, carefully washed his white hands loaded with a gold signet-ring.
âDésiré!â
He did not understand as quickly as Valérie. The light was failing.
âThe lampâ¦â
He lit it and the doctor sat down by the cradle, in the leisurely manner of somebody with plenty of time at his disposal.
âLetâs have a look at the little fellowâ¦â
He took a watch out of his pocket. Dr. Van der Donck was fair-haired, slightly bald, with a tapering moustache and clothes in broadcloth.
âWhen did you feed him last?â
Respectfully she replied:
âAt two oâclock, Doctor.â
âCome, now ⦠Come, now ⦠donât worry â¦â
He knew that she was just a nervous child frightened by all the ghosts created by an anxious mind. And yet ⦠He frowned ⦠He examined the child â¦
âWill you undress him for me?â
Désiré himself, whose head seemed to touch the ceiling, stood rooted to the spot behind him. More mummers went by outside. A military band passed somewhere.
âLoosen it⦠Good ⦠Ssh!â¦â
He listened ⦠He counted ⦠He frowned. He smiled so as not to frighten the mother â¦
âCome, now, Madame, itâs nothing serious ⦠Donât worry ⦠A touch of bronchitis, such as lots of new-born babies get at this time of yearâ¦â
âThatâs serious, isnât it, Doctor?â
She could still summon up the courage to smile so as not to annoy him with her fears, when he had come on a Sunday, a carnival Sunday.
âNo, not at all ⦠With a few precautions â¦â
He put on his gold pince-nez to write.
âWipe the table, Valérie.â
He read over what he had written, and added a couple of lines.
âThere you are, Madame. In a few days there wonât be a sign of it left. Above all, donât get into a panic. I tell you itâs nothing to worry about. Incidentally ⦠Whereâs that milk he vomited after his last feed?â
âValérie!â
It was Valérie who came and went. Then Désiré followed the doctor out on to the stairs.
âDoctorâ¦â
âNothing to worry about. I should just like to have an analysis of the milk.â
He held out a little phial he had in his pocket.
âIf you can, without alarming her ⦠Take it tomorrow morning to the Pierson laboratoryâ¦â
She would be the only one in the whole family whose milk wasnât good. Madame Mamelin had warned him: â That girl â¦â
âCome, now! Come, now! Everything will be all right, youâll see. Sheâs rather highly strung, you understand? Gets worried about the slightest thing.â
More mummers ⦠He shut the door â¦
When Désiré got back, he found Valérie trying in vain to
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