“Be very careful that there’s no draught.”
“But you are stifling us, monsieur.”
“Windows must be closed when it thunders, madame; that is only prudent.”
“Then why don’t you have a lightning-rod?” said La Thomassinière; “I have three on my country-house, two on the house I live in in Paris, and one on my other fine house on Rue de Buffaut.”
“Yes, I shall have one put on at once.—Come, messieurs, your glasses, there goes the cork.”
“Oh! mon Dieu!” cried Athalie, pressing against her neighbor; “how you frightened me with your cork!”
“The storm seems to frighten you terribly, my dear love,” said Madame Destival, with a sneer.
“Oh, yes! terribly!”
“My wife’s nerves are extremely sensitive.”
“Look out, you’re not pouring into the glass, Destival.”