"Well, after dinner we will tell sundry little anecdotes of wives
caught out by their husbands, killed, murdered under the most terrible
circumstances.--Then we shall see the faces that Madame de la Baudraye
and de Clagny will make."

"Not amiss!" said Bianchon; "one or the other must surely, by look or
gesture--"

"I know a newspaper editor," Lousteau went on, addressing Gatien,
"who, anxious to forefend a grievous fate, will take no stories but
such as tell the tale of lovers burned, hewn, pounded, or cut to
pieces; of wives boiled, fried, or baked; he takes them to his wife to
read, hoping that sheer fear will keep her faithful--satisfied with
that humble alternative, poor man! 'You see, my dear, to what the
smallest error may lead you!' says he, epitomizing Arnolfe's address
to Agnes."

"Madame de la Baudraye is quite guiltless; this youth sees double,"
said Bianchon. "Madame Piedefer seems to me far too pious to invite
her daughter's lover to the Chateau d'Anzy. Madame de la Baudraye
would have to hoodwink her mother, her husband, her maid, and her
mother's maid; that is too much to do. I acquit her."

"Well with more reason because her husband never 'quits her,'" said
Gatien, laughing at his own wit.

"We can easily remember two or three stories that will make Dinah
quake," said Lousteau. "Young man--and you too, Bianchon--let me beg
you to maintain a stern demeanor; be thorough diplomatists, an easy