I
Were modesty banished from the rest of the earth, it would no doubt find
a refuge in Mouchon's heart.
I see him still as he arrived, on a stretcher full of little pebbles,
with his mud be-plastered coat, and his handsome, honest face, like that
of a well-behaved child.
"You must excuse me," he said; "we can't keep ourselves very clean."
"Have you any lice?" asks the orderly, as he undresses him.
Mouchon flushes and looks uneasy.
"Well, if I have, they don't really belong to me."