"It's he! it's Adolphe! Ah! the traitor! the monster! I am sure he's with Malvina!"
And dropping the arm that she held, the Norman peasant ran after the couple and halted in front of the young man.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, "so I've caught you, you villain! you infamous traitor! You couldn't come to the ball with me! Monsieur was sick; he had the colic! And you refused to bring me, to come here with this little minx! But I'm not such a fool, my boy; you don't make me swallow such rubbish; I had an idea that I should catch you here."
"Come, come, Clorinde, don't make a scene; you know how I dislike them! Don't shout so loud!"
"I'll shout as loud as I please, and you can't make me keep quiet, you wicked rascal, for whom I sold my gold chain not a fortnight ago, and who throws my money away on other women!"
"You talk like a fool, Clorinde; if I have spent the money for your chain, I've spent plenty more with you!"
"You greenhorn! you, who had boots with holes in 'em and paper collars! Ah! this is too much, on my word! And you think that I'll let you strut about with your Malvina—for that's Malvina on your arm."
"Not at all, you are mistaken; it's a masker whom I met by chance, and whom I tell you to treat with respect."
"Ouiche! I'll treat her with respect; your charmer doesn't seem to have any tongue; she doesn't open her mouth! If it isn't Malvina, why doesn't she speak? But we'll soon see."
During this dialogue, the little dairymaid, who seemed to be all of a tremble, clung to her escort's arm; but the Norman suddenly snatched away her mask and cried: