To simplify matters, he carried a coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in Arabic numerals. Besides, it did not fit her well, which was why the loose wimple had slipped. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. ‘Certainly I have them with me. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart.
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