He was surprised at the sullen and stormy countenance with which she greeted him. She had not yet ventured to rebel against his authority, although she had frequently hinted her remonstrances and wrongs. But there was now a darkness charged with thunder on her brow, and the fermier-general began seriously (in nautical phrase) to look out for squalls.
"Good-day, my pretty wife."
"Good-day, sir."
"Are you well to-day?"
"No."
"Hey? that's a pity; what ails you, my charming little wife?"
"Solitude."
"Solitude! pooh, pooh! why, there is Julie."
"Julie has her young lover to think of."
"And when you weary of her," he continued, resolved not to perceive the slight but malicious emphasis, "you have got your own sweet thoughts to retire upon."