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Madame Chrysantheme by Pierre Loti
page 91 of 199 (45%)
My household maintains a more dignified air, though it is none the
less dreary. I had indeed thought of a divorce, but have really no
good reason for offering Chrysanthème such a gratuitous affront;
moreover there is another more imperative reason why I should remain
quiet: I too have had difficulties with the civilian authorities.

Day before yesterday, M. Sucre quite upset, Madame Prune almost
swooning, and Mdlle. Oyouki bathed in tears, stormed my rooms. The
Niponese police agents had called and threatened them with the law for
letting rooms outside of the European concession to a Frenchman
morganatically married to a Japanese; and the terror of being
prosecuted brought them to me, with a thousand apologies, but the
humble request that I should leave.

The next day I therefore went off, accompanied by _the wonderfully
tall friend_, who expresses himself better than I do in Japanese, to
the register office, with the full intention of making a terrible row.

In the language of this exquisitely polite people, terms of abuse are
totally wanting; when very angry, one is obliged to be satisfied with
using the _thou_, mark of _inferiority_ and the _familiar
conjugation_, habitual towards those of low birth. Seating myself on
the table used for weddings, in the midst of all the flurried little
policemen, I open the conversation in the following terms:

"In order that _thou shouldest_ leave me in peace in the suburb I am
inhabiting, what bribe must I offer _thee_, set of little beings more
contemptible than any mere street porter?"

Great and mute scandal, silent consternation, and low bows greet my
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