He gave a start.
"Very amiable? She? Ah! Great God! But you do not know, then, what she has done? She has spoiled my life. I am no longer a man; I am nothing at all. I am the laughing-stock of the neighborhood. And all on account of my wife. My wife? She ... she ... she is a hussy,—yes, Célestine, a hussy ... a hussy ... a hussy."
I gave him a moral lecture. I talked to him gently, hypocritically boasting of Madame's energy and order and all her domestic virtues. At each of my phrases he became more exasperated.
"No, no. A hussy! A hussy!"
However, I succeeded in calming him a little. Poor Monsieur! I played with him with marvelous ease. With a simple look I made him pass from anger to emotion. Then he stammered:
"Oh! you are so gentle, you are! You are so pretty! You must be so good! Whereas that hussy"...
"Oh! come, Monsieur! come! come!"
He continued:
"You are so gentle! And yet, what?... you are only a chambermaid."
For a moment he drew nearer to me, and in a low voice said: