"If you would, Célestine?"
"If I would what?"
"If you would ... you know very well; yes, you know very well."
"Monsieur wishes me perhaps to betray Madame with Monsieur?"
He misunderstood the expression of my face; and, with eyes standing out of his head, the veins in his neck swollen, his lips moist and frothy, he answered, in a smothered voice:
"Yes; yes, indeed."
"Monsieur doesn't think of such a thing?"
"I think of nothing else, Célestine."
He was very red, his face congested.
"Ah! Monsieur is going to begin again?"