She would come, always smiling, knowing well that he would say something about Souris and ready to flatter her new husband's inoffensive mania.
“Tell me, do you remember one day how Souris insisted on explaining to me that little men always commanded more affection than big men?”
And he made some remarks that were disparaging to the deceased, who was a small man, and decidedly flattering to himself, Leuillet, who was a tall man.
Mme. Leuillet allowed him to think he was right, quite right, and she laughed heartily, gently ridiculing her former husband for the sake of pleasing the present one, who always ended by saying:
“All the same, what a ninny that Souris was!”
They were happy, quite happy, and Leuillet never ceased to show his devotion to his wife.
One night, however, as they lay awake, Leuillet said as he kissed his wife:
“See here, dearie.”
“Well?”
“Was Souris—I don't exactly know how to say it—was Souris very loving?”