"Ah, madame, why was I not there!"
"Doubtless, but, unhappily, you were not. If they talked about the death of my first husband; you can judge what they said about that of my second. People began to distrust me," said the widow, shaking her pretty little head with an expression of ingenuous melancholy. "What would you have? the world is so meddling, so slanderous; men are so strange!"
"The world is stupid and egotistical, foolish," cried Croustillac, filled with pity for this victim of calumny. "Men are cowards and fools who believe all the gossip which is told them."
"What you say is very true. You are not so, my friend?"
"She calls me her friend," cried Croustillac, in a transport; and he answered, "No, certainly not, and I am not so."
"Doubtless," said the widow, "you are very different; you spoil me by accepting my proposition so quickly."
"Say, rather, that I am beyond bounds overjoyed at it, madame."
"You spoil me," continued the widow, with an enchanting smile, and throwing a tender glance at the chevalier. "I assure you you spoil me; you are so easy, so accommodating. Ah! how shall I replace you?"
"Replace me?"
"Yes, after you, friend."