What a queer man he is, and how ill-bred! And why does he never say a word to me? And why does he never answer when I speak to him?
In the house I find Madame by no means contented. She gives me a very disagreeable reception, treats me very roughly:
"I beg you not to stay out so long in future."
I desire to reply, for I am vexed, irritated, unnerved. But fortunately I restrain myself. I confine myself to muttering a little.
"What's that you say?"
"I say nothing."
"It is lucky. And furthermore, I forbid you to walk with M. Mauger's servant. She is very bad company for you. See, everything is late this morning, because of you."
I say to myself:
"Zut! zut! and zut! You make me tired. I will speak to whom I like. I will see anyone that it pleases me to see. You shall lay down no law for me, camel!"