The door was opened brusquely. A woman appeared, her eyes flashing, and remained standing on the threshold.
Romantin gazed at her with a look of terror.
She waited some seconds, crossing her arms over her breast, and then in a shrill, vibrating, exasperated voice said:
“Ha! you dirty scoundrel, is this the way you leave me?”
Romantin made no reply. She went on:
“Ha! you scoundrel! You did a nice thing in parking me off to the country. You'll soon see the way I'll settle your jollification. Yes, I'm going to receive your friends.”
She grew warmer.
“I'm going to slap their faces with the bottles and the wax-candles——”
Romantin said in a soft tone:
“Mathilde——”