one. And it was Clotilde, silent until now, who first declared in a
voice full of feeling:

"You are right, uncle; we will all go."

Felicite herself was obliged to consent. They re-entered the landau,
Macquart taking the seat beside the coachman. A feeling of disquietude
had given a sallow look to Maxime's worn face; and during the short
drive he questioned Pascal concerning Charles with an air of paternal
interest, which concealed a growing anxiety. The doctor constrained by
his mother's imperious glances, softened the truth. Well, the boy's
health was certainly not very robust; it was on that account, indeed,
that they were glad to leave him for weeks together in the country
with his uncle: but he had no definite disease. Pascal did not add
that he had for a moment cherished the dream of giving him a brain and
muscles by treating him with his hypodermic injections of nerve
substance, but that he had always been met by the same difficulty; the
slightest puncture brought on a hemorrhage which it was found
necessary to stop by compresses; there was a laxness of the tissues,
due to degeneracy; a bloody dew which exuded from the skin; he had
especially, bleedings at the nose so sudden and so violent that they
did not dare to leave him alone, fearing lest all the blood in his
veins should flow out. And the doctor ended by saying that although
the boy's intelligence had been sluggish, he still hoped that it would
develop in an environment of quicker mental activity.

They arrived at the asylum and Macquart, who had been listening to the
doctor, descended from his seat, saying:

"He is a gentle little fellow, a very gentle little fellow! And then,