"To think of killing Albert! such a handsome brunette, and such lovely eyes! Take yourself out of my sight, monsieur—go instantly, or I won't answer for the effects of my anger. Go, I say, you monster, you villain!"
"What, madame! when I fought solely to avenge you——"
"Oh! what infamy! to say that it was I who—— Leave the room, monsieur!"
Seeing that Tobie did not stir, Madame Plays pushed him roughly toward the door. The little fellow, who was nearly overturned by the shock, clung to a chair, and could not make up his mind what to do. Meanwhile, the robust lady opened the door herself, and, while Pigeonnier's back was turned, kicked him with all her force.
"Oho! you refuse to go, do you?"
By that means, Tobie was at last ejected from the room, and the door was instantly closed and locked upon him. He flew into a rage in his turn, and muttered angrily as he descended the stairs:
"Sacredieu! this is too much! By heaven! I have had enough of that woman; a slap in the face the other day, and now a kick! What under heaven will it be the next time? So she is mad because I have killed Albert! She plays little Hermione, and treats me like Orestes. To be sure, Orestes didn't receive a kick in the rump; she has interpolated that.—So you mourn Albert's death, do you?—Very good! just to punish her, I won't tell her it isn't true. Bigre! what a love affair! I don't want any more of it, thanks!"
Holding his hand to the injured part, Tobie betook himself to Albert's house, to get the five hundred francs which he had promised to lend him, and which might well act as an antidote to the affront he had undergone.
But when he inquired for his friend, the servant said:
"Monsieur Albert started for Normandie half an hour ago."