"A hundred perhaps—one never," said de Lussac.
"And when you are old, who will occupy the other side of the chimney corner? A chimney has two corners."
"I know it," said de Lussac; "but there is also the middle, where I shall be very happy and comfortable—that is better still. No, no, long live Liberty!"
"Pure selfishness—and besides, conjugal life is the most comfortable."
"Undeceive yourself, madame; one lives as well at the club. One dines better at a restaurant, where for a small tip one may grumble and blow up the waiter to one's heart's content."
"You can do as much in your own house, and blow up your wife without its costing you a farthing."
The light-hearted gaiety of the young man amused Dora. A woman, although she does not countenance that love of independence in her husband, admires it in other men. I feel inclined to believe that women have a mingled feeling of admiration and respect for the man who has not been caught in the matrimonial toils.
Dora was playing with the pansies that she had scattered on the table.
"You see these flowers," she said suddenly to de Lussac, "well, there is an impenetrable mystery connected with them."
"You don't say so," said he, noticing the comically majestic air she had assumed.