"To return to Callé: he is more or less of a simpleton. He doesn't dare to look a woman in the face; indeed, he hardly dares to speak to one. So you see that I can safely leave you with him. If he should ever become any woman's lover, she would have to make the first overtures!"
"Do you think so, my dear?"
"I am sure of it; he would never dare to declare himself, unless he got a little help. And so, my dear love, as I know your virtue and your affection for me, I am entirely easy in my mind. I would intrust you to Callé, my dear, as I would to a keeper of the seraglio. Do you know what a keeper of the seraglio is, in Turkey?"
"No, my dear."
"Well, he's a eunuch."
"What in the world is a eunuch?"
"Why, don't you know that? I'll tell you some night—when it rains. Evidently, I have a great many things to teach you."
A few days later, Philémon said to his wife one morning:
"My dear love, I am going to make you very happy!—I know how much you like the theatre, especially the Gymnase; well, I have taken a box for you there, for to-night."
"Oh! what fun! at the Gymnase! and a box! How lovely of you, dear! Tell me what time we must start, so that I can be ready and not make you impatient."