The tall, dark girl, her face bathed in tears and purple with shame, picked up her things and hastened away.

She was vanquished.

Gervaise slipped on the sleeve of her jacket again, and fastened up her petticoats.

Her arm pained her a good deal, and she asked Madame Boche to place her bundle of clothes on her shoulder.

The concierge referred to the battle, spoke of her emotions, and talked of examining the young woman's person, just to see.
"You may, perhaps, have something broken.