"I begged Monsieur Bouqueton to spare me," continued Annette. "I confessed my guilt and begged for mercy; but he would not listen; he kept on kicking me and calling me vile names. At last, he hurt me so that I could not speak. I don't know whether the monster thought he had killed me,--that was his purpose, I don't doubt,--but, when he saw that I didn't move, he may have been frightened, for he suddenly ran off, and I heard his steps die away in the distance. I lay there on the ground a long while, in horrible pain. At last a heavy wagon came along, and the driver heard me groaning. He came to me, put me in his wagon, and took me as far as the barrier, where he left me. There they gave me what assistance I needed. I came to myself, but when they asked me what had happened, I couldn't tell them the truth, so I made up a story about robbers. When I felt able to go home, they called a cab and sent me home. All men aren't as wicked as Monsieur Bouqueton, thank God! if they were, we should have to long for another Flood. The next day, I took some medicine. The blows on my hips and legs are all black and blue, but they won't amount to anything. I hoped it would be the same with the one I got here, on the breast, but it hurts me awfully, it cuts like a knife; and that's why I came to see you, monsieur." "Let me see the bruise, my child; you must show us your breast--doctors, you know----" "Oh! I'll show you whatever you say, monsieur." And, without any false modesty, Mademoiselle Annette unbuttoned her dress and bared her breast. At that moment we could examine it without any risk to her, for the thought that the poor girl was in pain put all other thoughts to flight. Under the left breast there was a purple spot, with a yellowish circle all about it. Balloquet frowned and his face became grave and sad; I believed that I could divine his thought and I turned my head away; the sight was too distressing. The girl meanwhile smiled a wan sort of smile, and said: "That was a famous blow I got, wasn't it, monsieur?" "Yes, mademoiselle, yes." The doctor put his finger on the purple spot. "Does that hurt?" he asked. "Oh, yes!" "And that?" "Yes!" "And that?" "Oh! yes, it does!" "We must look after this; you must do just what I say, and take the draught I prescribe." "But it isn't dangerous, is it, monsieur?" Balloquet made an effort to resume his customary cheerful expression as he replied: "No, mademoiselle, no; you will come out all right. But you must follow my directions carefully; you must keep a bandage on your breast all the time, wet with a liquid I will give you." "You don't need to feel it any more, monsieur?" "No, mademoiselle." "When must I come again?" Balloquet reflected a moment, and said: "Don't come here again; I am going to move, and I don't know yet where I shall go; but leave me your address; I will call to see you."