And when he spoke, it seemed to shame his coarse talk.
He held out his arms as if to embrace me.

I drew near with incredible shrinkings, and surrendered myself to his arms with overwhelming disgust.
But he only drew my ear down to his lips.
'Trust me,' he whispered.

'_Je suis bon bougre_, _moi_.

I'll take it to hell with me, and tell the devil.' Why should I go on to reproduce his grossness and trivialities?
All that he thought, at that hour, was even noble, though he could not clothe it otherwise than in the language of a brutal farce.

Presently he bade me call the doctor; and when that officer had come in, raised a little up in his bed, pointed first to himself and then to me, who stood weeping by his side, and several times repeated the expression, 'Frinds--frinds--dam frinds.' To my great surprise, the doctor appeared very much affected.