Hereupon he called for a glass of eau sucrée, fed her with some teaspoonful of the sweet liquid (Fifine was a frank gourmande; anybody could win her heart through her palate), promised her more when the operation should be over, and promptly went to work. Some assistance being needed, he demanded it of the cook, a robust, strong-armed woman, but she, the portress, and the nurse instantly fled. I did not like to touch that small, tortured limb, but, thinking there was no alternative, my hand was already extended to do what was requisite. I was anticipated: Madame Beck had put out her own hand—hers was steady while mine trembled.
"Ca vaudra mieux", said the doctor, turning from me to her.
He showed wisdom in his choice. Mine would have feigned stoicism, forced fortitude. Hers was neither forced nor feigned.
"Merci madame: tres bien, fort bien!" said the operator when he had finished. "Voila un sang-froid bien opportun, et qui vaut mille élans de sensibilité déplacée".
He was pleased with her firmness, she with his compliment. It is likely too that his whole general appearance, his voice, mien, and manner wrought impressions in his favor. Indeed, when you looked well at him, and when a lamp was brought in—for it was evening and now waxing dusk—you saw that, unless Madame Beck had been less than woman, it could not well be otherwise. This young doctor (he was young) had no common aspect. His stature looked imposingly tall in that little chamber, and amidst that group of Dutch-made women; his profile was clear, fine, and expressive; perhaps his eye glanced from face to face rather too vividly, too quickly, and too often, but it had a most pleasant character, and so had his mouth; his chin was full, cleft, Grecian, and perfect. As to his smile, one could not in a hurry make up one's mind as to the descriptive epithet it merited; there was something in it that pleased, but something too that brought surging up into the mind all one's foibles and weak points: all that could lay one open to a laugh; yet Fifine liked this doubtful smile, and thought the owner genial: much as he had hurt her, she held out her hand to bid him a friendly good-night. He patted her little hand kindly, and then he and madame went down-stairs together; she talking in her highest tide of spirits and volubility; he listening with an air
