Pain came back to me, leaping upon me and then receding,
finally, on the third day suddenly leaving me altogether. The Rat fed me
on cabbage soup and glasses of tea and caviare and biscuits. During
those three days he never left me, and indeed tended me like a woman. He
would sit by my bed and with his rough hand stroke my hair, while he
poured into my ears ghastly stories of the many crimes that he had
committed. I noticed that he was cleaner and more civilised. His beard
was clipped and he smelt of cabbage and straw--a rather healthy smell.
One morning he suddenly took the pail, filled it with water and washed
himself in front of my windows. He scrubbed himself until I should have
thought that he had no skin left.
"You're a fine big man, Rat," I said.
He was delighted with that, and came quite near my bed, stretching his
naked body, his arms and legs and chest, like a pleased animal.
"Yes, I'm a fine man, Barin," he said; "many women have loved me, and
many will again..." Then he went back, and producing clean drawers and
vest from somewhere (I suspect that they were mine but I was too weak to
care), put them on.
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