"What are you thinking about, my dear? Don't you want anything to be good?"
"I want—I want you to stop throwing my money out of the window. Every minute this girl has to have something new—salt or pepper. It's enough to break a man's heart!"
"Well, monsieur, I'd like to know why I don't have a supply of such things in my kitchen, like the cooks do in all decent houses?—And, madame, I must have some pickles too, and some capers for the white sauce for the fish."
"We must send out for some."
"Not by any means; it's all unnecessary. What's the good of capers? You have plenty of mustard here."
"But, monsieur, you don't put mustard in a white sauce."
"Make it red, then."
"My dear, if you don't let us have what we need for dinner, everything will be horrid; and then you will certainly have spent money uselessly, instead of doing yourself credit."
Monsieur Mirotaine took an old bandanna handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes, muttering:
"You make me do crazy things, Aldegonde!—What are you going to have for dinner, anyhow?"