“Surely, Monsieur,” said he blandly, “my wife would not expect me to give up what is the mere recreation of every clubman.”
“As a recreation pure and simple—she would not insist too much, but——” I shrugged my shoulders. I flatter myself on being able to do it with perfect French expressiveness. I caught, to my satisfaction, an angry gleam in his eye.
“Do you mean to say, Monsieur, that I play for more than recreation?”
“How dare I say anything, Monsieur. But Madame is prejudiced against the Cercle Africain. For a bachelor there is little to be said against it—but for a married man—you seize the point?” said I.
“Bien, Monsieur,” he said, swallowing his wrath. “And Article 3?”
“Since you have left the army—would it not be better to engage in some profession—unless your private fortune dispenses you from the necessity.”
He said nothing but: “Article 4?”
“It would give Madame comfort to live out of Algiers.”
“Moi aussi,” he replied rather unexpectedly. “We have the whole of France to choose from.”
“Would not Madame be happier if she lived out of France, also? She has always longed for a social position.”