And Anastasia, presenting the vial quickly to Pipelet's lips, insisted on his swallowing the contents. Alfred in vain struggled courageously: his wife, profiting by the weakness of her victim, held his head with a firm grasp in one hand, and with the other introduced the neck of the vial between his teeth, and forced him to drink the absinthe; after which she cried triumphantly: "Well done! you are again on your pins, my cherished one!"
Alfred, having wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, opened his eyes, stood up, and asked in a trembling voice: "Have you seen him?"
"Who?"
"Is he gone?"
"Alfred, whom do you mean?"
"Cabrion!"
"Has he dared—" cried the portress.
Pipelet, as dumb as the statue of the Commander in Don
Giovanni, bowed his head twice in the affirmative.
"M. Cabrion, has he been here?" asked Miss Dimpleton, restraining with difficulty an inclination to laugh.
"That monster! has he been let loose upon Alfred?" cried Mrs. Pipelet. "Oh, if I had been here with my broom, he should have eaten it up, to the very handle! But speak, Alfred; relate to us this horrible affair."