"Morange will have told you of the frightful catastrophe, my dear," said
he. "Fortunately Denis was there, for the question of responsibility
towards his family. And it was Denis, too, who, just as we were about to
carry the poor fellow home to the pavilion, opposed it, saying that,
given his wife's condition, we should kill her if we carried him to her
in this dying state. And so the only course was to bring him here, was it
not?"
Then he quitted his wife with a gesture of bewilderment, and returned to
the landing, where one could hear him repeating in a quivering voice:
"Gently, gently, take care of the balusters."
The lugubrious train entered the drawing-room. Blaise had been laid on a
stretcher provided with a mattress. Denis, as pale as linen, followed,
supporting the pillow on which rested his brother's head. A little
streamlet of blood coursed over the dying man's brow, his eyes were
closed. And four factory hands held the shafts of the stretcher. Their
heavy shoes crushed down the carpet, and fragile articles of furniture
were thrust aside anyhow to open a passage for this invasion of horror
and of fright.
Amid his bewilderment, an idea occurred to Beauchene, who continued to
direct the operation.
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