“Hush,” said she, lowering the scissors which she held in her hand; and, after smoothing her chin with her fingers, slender, rosy, and plump at their tips, she went on examining the pieces of stuff she had cut out.
“I say that it is ridiculous to go out in the cold when it is so easy to remain at home at one’s own fireside.”
“Hush.”
“But what are you doing that is so important?”
“I—I am cutting out a pair of braces for you,” and she set to work again. But, as in cutting out she kept her head bent, I noticed, on passing behind her, her soft, white neck, which she had left bare that evening by dressing her hair higher than usual. A number of little downy hairs were curling there. This kind of down made me think of those ripe peaches one bites so greedily. I drew near, the better to see, and I kissed the back of my wife’s neck.
“Monsieur!” said Louise, suddenly turning round.
“Madame,” I replied, and we both burst out laughing.
“Christmas Eve,” said I.
“Do you wish to excuse yourself and to go out?”
“Do you mean to complain?”