"I ought to break this plate over your head," said Bastringuette; "yes, that I ought, to teach you to shake my arm like that! If I still loved you, I'd do it; but as I don't love you any more, I forgive you."
As she spoke, she put the plate back on the table. Sans-Cravate glanced at her with a disturbed expression, and said in a faltering tone:
"Ah! you don't love me any more?"
"No," rejoined Bastringuette, dwelling upon every word. "I am outspoken. I don't propose to play tricks on you, as you seem to fear. But from this moment I am not your mistress; I take back my liberty."
"What! do you mean it?"
"Oh! I don't make any mystery of it, you see; I say it right out before everybody."
"But——"
"But what? We ain't bound together in such a way that we can't separate. Would you rather have me do like the women in society? stay with you, when I don't love you, and deceive you all day? That ain't my style."
"If you don't love me any more, then you must love somebody else!"
"Pardi! that's easy to guess!" muttered Jean Ficelle.