"Hum!" resumed even M. de Guersaint, "this salmon is not so bad. Add a
little salt to it and you will find it all right."
Pierre made up his mind to eat, for after all he must take sustenance for
strength's sake. At a little table close by, however, he had just caught
sight of Madame Vigneron and Madame Chaise, who sat face to face,
apparently waiting. And indeed, M. Vigneron and his son Gustave soon
appeared, the latter still pale, and leaning more heavily than usual on
his crutch. "Sit down next to your aunt," said his father; "I will take
the chair beside your mother." But just then he perceived his two
neighbours, and stepping up to them, he added: "Oh! he is now all right
again. I have been rubbing him with some eau-de-Cologne, and by-and-by he
will be able to take his bath at the piscina."
Thereupon M. Vigneron sat down and began to devour. But what an awful
fright he had had! He again began talking of it aloud, despite himself,
so intense had been his terror at the thought that the lad might go off
before his aunt. The latter related that whilst she was kneeling at the
Grotto the day before, she had experienced a sudden feeling of relief; in
fact, she flattered herself that she was cured of her heart complaint,
and began giving precise particulars, to which her brother-in-law
listened with dilated eyes, full of involuntary anxiety. Most certainly
he was a good-natured man, he had never desired anybody's death; only he
felt indignant at the idea that the Virgin might cure this old woman, and
forget his son, who was so young.
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