“Holy Cross! you are jesting, Stephanette, and I have no desire for it now.”
“That is very evident.”
“Where is this good-for-nothing fellow, this vagabond?”
“Do you wish me to go at once and find out? No inquiry would be more agreeable to me.”
“This is too much, you are making sport of me. Ah, well, good-bye! All is over, you understand, all is over between us.”
Stephanette shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Why do you talk nonsense like that?”
“What, nonsense?”
“Without a doubt, mere imagination and pretence.”
“Pretence! Ah, you think so? Pretence! Ah, well, you will see. Do not think you can take me with your cajoleries. I know them,—crocodile tears.”
“Do not say that, Luquin. I am going to force you to get on your knees before me and ask my pardon for your stupid jealousy.”