"Come, darling, get up."

But she was stubborn, would not change place, and stuck there,
holding to pillows and mattress.

At last her lover lost patience, swore, and shouted rudely:

"Get up, slut!"

At once she got up, and, smiling amid her tears, took his arm and
came with him to the dining-room, looking the very picture of a
happy victim.

She sat down between M. d'Anquetil and me, her head inclined on the
shoulder of her lover the while her foot felt for mine under the
table.

"Gentlemen," said our host, "forgive my vivacity, an impulse I
cannot regret, because it gives me the honour to entertain you at
this place. To say the truth, I cannot endure all the whims of this
pretty girl, and I have been very suspicious since I surprised her
with her Capuchin."

"My dear friend," Catherine said, pressing at the sama time her foot
on mine, "your jealousy goes astray. You should know that my only
liking is for M. Jacques."

"She jests," said M. d'Anquetil.