“I do not in the least care about your son-in-law’s visits; you brought him here—take him away again! If you have any authority in your family, it seems to me that you may very well insist on your wife’s patching up this squabble. Tell the worthy old lady from me, that if I am unjustly charged with having caused a young couple to quarrel, with upsetting the unity of a family, and annexing both the father and the son-in-law, I will deserve my reputation by annoying them in my own way! Why, here is Lisbeth talking of throwing me over! She prefers to stick to her family, and I cannot blame her for it. She will throw me over, says she, unless the young people make friends again. A pretty state of things! Our expenses here will be trebled!”
“Oh, as for that!” said the Baron, on hearing of his daughter’s strong measures, “I will have no nonsense of that kind.”
“Very well,” said Valerie. “And now for the next thing.—What about Coquet’s place?”
“That,” said Hector, looking away, “is more difficult, not to say impossible.”
“Impossible, my dear Hector?” said Madame Marneffe in the Baron’s ear. “But you do not know to what lengths Marneffe will go. I am completely in his power; he is immoral for his own gratification, like most men, but he is excessively vindictive, like all weak and impotent natures. In the position to which you have reduced me, I am in his power. I am bound to be on terms with him for a few days, and he is quite capable of refusing to leave my room any more.”
Hulot started with horror.
“He would leave me alone on condition of being head-clerk. It is abominable—but logical.”
“Valerie, do you love me?”
“In the state in which I am, my dear, the question is the meanest insult.”
“Well, then—if I were to attempt, merely to attempt, to ask the Prince for a place for Marneffe, I should be done for, and Marneffe would be turned out.”