As I saw that the discussion was becoming warm, I made haste to change the subject by taking the billiard cue and handing it to Déneterre.
“Is this cue yours?”
“Yes; it’s a prize cue that I won at pool not long ago.”
“Ah! so you play pool, do you?”
“Every night; I am a very good hand at it.”
“Very well; go and finish your game. No ceremony between us, you know. Besides, I am tired and am going to bed.”
“Until to-morrow, then,” said Déneterre, taking his prize cue eagerly; “you must join us to-morrow, and you will see what progress I’ve made since last year, especially since I have been using a patent cue.”
Déneterre left us, and Amélie took me to my room, showing me on the way a large part of the house, and telling me in detail all that she had lately had done to it, and the further improvements that she had in view. I noticed in my sister’s conversation something of the tone of the old gentleman with whom I had dined at Madame de Marsan’s country house, and who dilated so complacently on the details of his barnyard and hencoop. But I began to understand that the story of the birth of a chicken and the education of a rabbit might be of great interest to people who had nothing else to do.
In the course of our conversation, I asked my sister if she often had disputes with her husband.
“Disputes!” she exclaimed, with a surprised look; “why, we never have any.”