rong ! ' '
He rose, brandishing the fashion journal.
"What! I no longer love you! " he repeated. " Well, that's an idea! Why do you say that? "
"No, you no longer love me . . . because, if you still loved me, you would have noticed something."
"But what thing?"
"Well, you would have noticed my corset."
"What corset? Oh! yes, this corset. 'Tis true, I had not noticed it. How stupid I am ! Why, yes, it is very pretty, you know, . . . ravishing."
"Yes, you say that now, and you don't mean it. I am too stupid, myself. I tire myself out in trying to make myself beautiful, â€” in trying to find things to please you. And you care nothing about it. Besides, what am I to you? Nothing; less than nothing! You come in here, and what do you see ? That dirty newspaper. In what are you in- terested ? In a rebus ! Ah, a pretty life you give me here ! We do not see anybody ; we do not go anjrwhere; we live like wolves, like poor people."
"Oh! come, come, I beg of you. Don't get angry. Come ! As poor people, indeed ! ' '
He tried to approach Madame, to take her about- the waist, to kiss her, but she repulsed him severely.
"No, let me alone. You provoke me."
"Oh! come, my darling, my little wife."