You will understand, therefore, how what was meant to be a secret now obtains the honors of publicity.

“Well, Caroline?”

“Well, Stephanie?”

“Well?”

“Well?”

A double sigh.

“Have you forgotten our agreement?”

“No.”

“Why haven’t you been to see me, then?”

“I am never left alone.  Even here we shall hardly have time to talk.”

“Ah! if Adolphe were to get into such habits as that!” exclaimed Caroline.

“You saw us, Armand and me, when he paid me what is called, I don’t know why, his court.”

“Yes, I admired him, I thought you very happy, you had found your ideal, a fine, good-sized man, always well dressed, with yellow gloves, his beard well shaven, patent leather boots, a clean shirt, exquisitely neat, and so attentive—­”

“Yes, yes, go on.”

“In short, quite an elegant man:  his voice was femininely sweet, and then such gentleness!  And his promises of happiness and liberty!  His sentences were veneered with rosewood.  He stocked his conversation with shawls and laces.  In his smallest expression you heard the rumbling of a coach and four.  Your wedding presents were magnificent.  Armand seemed to me like a husband of velvet, of a robe of birds’ feathers in which you were to be wrapped.”

“Caroline, my husband uses tobacco.”

“So does mine; that is, he smokes.”

“But mine, dear, uses it as they say Napoleon did:  in short, he chews, and I hold tobacco in horror.  The monster found it out, and went without out it for seven months.”

“All men have their habits.  They absolutely must use something.”

“You have no idea of the tortures I endure.  At night I am awakened with a start by one of my own sneezes.  As I go to sleep my motions bring the grains of snuff scattered over the pillow under my nose, I inhale, and explode like a mine.  It seems that Armand, the wretch, is used to these surprises, and doesn’t wake up.  I find tobacco everywhere, and I certainly didn’t marry the customs office.”

“But, my dear child, what does this trifling inconvenience amount to, if your husband is kind and possesses a good disposition?”

“He is as cold as marble, as particular as an old bachelor, as communicative as a sentinel; and he’s one of those men who say yes to everything, but who never do anything but what they want to.”

“Deny him, once.”

“I’ve tried it.”

“What came of it?”

“He threatened to reduce my allowance, and to keep back a sum big enough for him to get along without me.”

“Poor Stephanie!  He’s not a man, he’s a monster.”

“A calm and methodical monster, who wears a scratch, and who, every night—­”

“Well, every night—­”

“Wait a minute!—­who takes a tumbler every night, and puts seven false teeth in it.”

“What a trap your marriage was!  At any rate, Armand is rich.”