Monsieur--Wrong! What is there that is wrong? Is your heart of marble
or adamant, that you do not see that I love you, you naughty child? That
I hold out my arms to you, that I long to clasp you to my heart, and to
fall asleep in your hair? What is there more sacred in the world than to
love one's wife or love one's husband? (Midnight strikes.)

Madame--(she suddenly changes hey expression at the sound, throws her
arms round her husband, and hurriedly kisses him thrice)--You thought I
did not love you, eh, dear? Oh, yes! I love you. Great baby! not to
see that I was waiting the time.

Monsieur--What time, dear?

Madame--The time. It has struck twelve, see. (She blushes crimson.)
Friday is over. (She holds out her hand for him to kiss.)

Monsieur--Are you sure the clock is not five minutes fast, love?




CHAPTER XIX

A LITTLE CHAT

MADAME F----- MADAME H------

(These ladies are seated at needlework as they talk.)