"Do explain to me in what consist the usages of society; for there are things which I do not understand. Is it admissible—is it proper to allow a woman of my age and a gentleman of yours to return from a ball, tete-a-tete, at two o'clock in the morning?"
"But," said Lucan, not without a certain gravity, "I am not a gentleman; I am your mother's husband."
"Ah! that is true; of course, you are my mother's husband!" she said, emphasizing these words in a ringing voice, which caused Lucan to fear some explosion.
But, appearing to overcome a violent emotion, she went on in an almost cheerful tone:
"Yes, you are my mother's husband; and what is more, you are, according to my notion, a very bad husband for my mother."
"According to your notion!" said Lucan, quietly. "And why so?"
"Because you are not at all suited to her."
"Have you consulted your mother on that subject, my dear madam? It seems to me that she must be a better judge of it than yourself."
"I need not consult her. It is enough to see you both together. My mother is an angelic creature, whereas you;—no!"
"What am I, then?"