But it is a world of disappointment, influenza, and rheumatics; and next morning Madame was prostrate in her bed, and careless of all things but flannel and James's powder.
Madame was _desolee_; but she could not raise her head.

She only murmured a question.
'For 'ow long time, dear, will Lady Knollys remain ?' 'A very few days, I believe.' 'Helas! 'ow onlucky! maybe to-morrow I shall be better Ouah! my ear.

The laudanum, dear cheaile!' And so our conversation for that time ended, and Madame buried her head in her old red cashmere shawl..