“Madame, I will not prolong your error; it is my wife for whom I am waiting, and whom I agreed to meet here.”
“Your wife! I beg pardon, monsieur, pray receive my apology. I had no suspicion that you had become a Philemon. Come, joking aside, is it really your wife that you are waiting for?”
“Yes, to be sure. What is there so extraordinary in that?”
“Do you mean that you are still in love with your wife?”
“Still! why it seems to me that I was married only yesterday!”
“Bless my soul! how touching!”
Lucile bit her lips with a sneering smile. I had no wish to prolong my conversation with her, although I was certain that my wife would not come so early. I made a motion to bid her adieu; she grasped my arm.
“What, you are going to leave me so soon? Mon Dieu! don’t tremble so; your wife will not come yet.”
“I trust not; for, frankly, I would not like to have her see me talking with you.”
“Would she whip you?”