'Are you going to your mother's to-morrow evening?'
'No, not to-morrow,' Marthe replied, 'I have too many things to do. But I dare say I shall go next week.'
He made no immediate reply, but just before he blew out the candle, he resumed:
'It is wrong not to go out oftener than you do. Go to your mother's to-morrow evening; it will enliven you a little. I will stay at home and look after the children.'
Marthe looked at him in astonishment. He generally kept her at home with him, requiring all kinds of little services from her, and grumbling if she went out even for an hour.
'Very well,' she replied, 'I will go if you wish me to.'
Then he blew out the candle, laid his head upon the pillow, and muttered:
'That's right; and you can tell us all about it when you come back. It will amuse the children.'