‘Why don’t you send her to the hospital?’ said Vandeloup, with a yawn, looking at his watch.
‘Never,’ retorted Mrs Pulchop, in a decisively shrill voice; ‘their medicines ain’t pure, and they leaves you at the mercy of doctors to be practised on like a pianer. Topsy may go to the cemetery like her poor dear father, but never to an inquisition of a hospital;’ and with this Mrs Pulchop faded out of the room, for her peculiar mode of egress could hardly be called walking out.
At last dinner made its appearance, and Kitty recovering her spirits, they had a very pleasant meal together, and then Gaston sat over his coffee with a cigarette, talking to Kitty.
He never was without a cigarette in his mouth, and his fingers were all stained a yellowish brown by the nicotine. Kitty lay back in a big arm-chair listening to his idle talk and admiring him as he sat at the dinner table.
‘Can’t you stay tonight?’ she said, looking imploringly at him.
Vandeloup shook his head gently.
‘I have an engagement, as I told you before,’ he said, lazily; ‘besides, evenings at home are so dreary.’
‘I will be here,’ said Kitty, reproachfully.
‘That will, of course, make a difference,’ answered Gaston, with a faint sneer; ‘but you know,’ shrugging his shoulders, ‘I do not cultivate the domestic virtues.’
‘What will you do when we are married?’ said Kitty, with an uneasy laugh.