way, was from six to seven; impossible, too, to change our turn; none of
the ladies caring to adore during dinner-time, as is natural enough.
Good heavens, what a rage we were in! How good God must be to have
forgiven you. Do you remember?

Monsieur--(continuing to read)--Yes, dear.

Madame--Ah! you remember that you said, 'I don't care a . . .' Oh!
but I won't repeat what you said, it is too naughty. How angry you were!
'I will go and dine at the restaurant, confound it!' But you did not say
confound, ha! ha! ha! Well, I loved you just the same at that moment;
it vexed me to see you in a rage on God's account, but for my own part I
was pleased; I like to see you in a fury; your nostrils expand, and then
your moustache bristles, you put me in mind of a lion, and I have always
liked lions. When I was quite a child at the Zoological Gardens they
could not get me away from them; I threw all my sous into their cage for
them to buy gingerbread with; it was quite a passion. Well, to continue
my story. (She looks toward her husband who is still reading, and after
a pause,) Is it interesting-that which you are reading?

Monsieur--(like a man waking up)--What is it, my dear child? What I am
reading? Oh, it would scarcely interest you. (With a grimace.) There
are Latin phrases, you know, and, besides, I am hoarse. But I am
listening, go, on. (He resumes his newspaper.)

Madame--Well, to return to the perpetual Adoration, Louise confided to
me, under the pledge of secrecy, that she was like me.

Monsieur--Like you? What do you mean?