"You are entirely mistaken, for in my opinion you ought to get married."
"Pray, why?"
"How often I have said to myself, sooner or later this good M. Pascal, who lives so much by his heart, will enjoy the sweets of family life, and, if I must confess my vain presumption," added Sophie, "I said to myself, it is impossible that the sight of the happiness Charles and I enjoy should not some day suggest the idea of marriage to M. Pascal. Now, was I not happy in foreseeing your intention?"
"Have your triumph, then, dear Madame Dutertre, because, in fact, seduced by your example and that of your husband, I desire to make, as you two did, a marriage of love."
"Can any other marriage be possible?" replied Sophie, shrugging her shoulders with a most graceful movement, and, without reflecting upon the thirty-eight years of M. Pascal, she added:
"And you are loved?"
"My God, that depends on you."
"On me?"
"Absolutely."
"On me?" exclaimed Sophie, with increasing surprise. "Do you hear, Charles, what M. Pascal says."