“Absinthe—absinthe—I don’t hate that! it helps the digestion!”
“Oh! bless my soul! you don’t hate any liquid; but I know that absinthe is bad for the health; I’ve heard some of the clerks at the office talking about two talented actors who played at the theatre and who put an end to themselves with absinthe; without counting several others who are in a fair way to do the same thing!”
“Bah! that’s all nonsense!”
“Come, Hildegarde, go to bed; I will come in a little while; and if little Georget isn’t in at the quarter, I will leave him outside; I can’t waste my oil for anyone who never makes it up to me. Well, you don’t move; are you fastened to your chair to-night?”
“Go to bed first, Baudoin; I’ll sit up for the young man, and put the lodge in order.”
“You know very well that I am not in the habit of going to bed before you. I see your scheme: you will wait until I am asleep and then go to the cupboard to say a word or two to the bottle!”
“Oh! the idea of my going to the cupboard! It’s much more likely to be you, for you like brandy too.”
“I like it reasonably, like a man with some self-respect, who doesn’t choose to make a brute of himself.—Hildegarde, go to bed.”
“I don’t feel sleepy.”
“Hildegarde, we are going to have trouble! Will you go to bed at once?”