collection of pipes. And the correspondence began again. Timid and widely-spaced at first, it was soon going on fast and furiously. I became utterly tired out with running from the room of one to the room of the other, bearing heart-shaped or hen-shaped threats. But oh! what fun I had!
Three days after this scene, while reading a missive from Monsieur, on pink paper and bearing his coat of arms, Madame turned pale, and suddenly asked me, in a gasping voice:
"Célestine, do you really think that Monsieur wants to kill himself? Have you seen him with weapons in his hands? My God! If he were to kill himself?"
I burst out laughing in Madame's face. And this laugh, which had escaped me in spite of myself, increased, let itself loose, poured itself out. I thought I should die, choked by this laugh, strangled by this cursed laugh that rose, like a tempest, in my breast, and filled my throat with irrepressible hiccups.
For a moment Madame sat aghast.
"What is it? What is the matter with you? Why do you laugh like that? Be still, then. Will you be still, nasty creature?"
But the laugh held me fast; it would not let go. At last, between two gasps, I cried:
"Oh! no, your goings on are too funny, too stupid! Oh! la la! Oh! la la! How stupid it is!"
