"Go out of my house! I order you out, you double thief!"
Marie could not believe that Jacques was speaking seriously. She had been trying to end the painful conversation as soon as possible, to prevent the intervention of David and her son. So she answered, addressing her husband with the greatest sweetness, hoping thereby to calm him:
"Monsieur, I beseech you, go to your chamber, and let me go to mine. I repeat to you that to-morrow—"
"God's thunder!" cried Jacques, beside himself with rage, "I did not tell you to go back to your chamber, but to go out of my house. Must I take you by the shoulders and put you out?"
"Outside!" cried Marie, who understood from the ferocity of Bastien's face that he was speaking seriously.
It was ferocity, it was stupidity, but what could be expected from such a wretch, made furious by drink.
"Outside!" said Marie again, terrified. "But, monsieur, you do not mean it; it is night, it is cold."
"What is all that to me?"
"Monsieur, I beseech you, come to yourself. My God! it is one o'clock in the morning; where do you wish me to go?"
"I will—"