"Where am I going?" said Mme. Mauperin, fastening the cape to her shoulder with one of the two pins she was holding in her mouth. "Is my cape too low down? Just look."
"No."
"Pull it a little."
"How fine you are!" said M. Mauperin, stepping back and examining his wife's dress.
She was wearing a black dress of the most elegant style, in excellent taste though somewhat severe looking.
"I am going to Paris."
"Oh! you are going to Paris? What are you going to do in Paris?"
"Oh, dear, how you do worry always with your questions: 'Where are you going? What are you going to do?' You really want to know, do you?"
"Well, I was only asking you——"
"My dear, I am going to confession," said Mme. Mauperin, looking down.