ind the drawn curtain, behind the
closed shutter, we will remain asleep without sleeping. Buried in
silence and shadow, delightfully stretched beneath your warm eider-down
coverlets, we will slowly enjoy the happiness of being together, and we
will wish one another good-morning only on the stroke of noon. You do
not like noise, dear. I will not say a word. Not a murmur to disturb
your unfinished dream and warn you that you are no longer sleeping;
not a breath to recall you to reality; not a movement to rustle the
coverings. I will be silent as a shade, motionless as a statue; and if
I kiss you--for, after all, I have my weaknesses--it will be done with
a thousand precautions, my lips will scarcely brush your sleeping
shoulder; and if you quiver with pleasure as you stretch out your arms,
if your eye half uncloses at the murmur of my kiss, if your lips smile
at me, if I kiss you, it would be because you would like me to, and I
shall have nothing to reproach myself with.

Madame--(her eyes half closed, leaning back in hey armchair, her head
bent with emotion, she places her hands before his mouth. In a low
voice)--Hush, hush! Don't say that, dear; not another word! If you knew
how wrong it was!

Monsieur--Wrong! What is there that is wrong? Is your heart of marble or
adamant, that you do not see that I love you, you naughty child? That
I hold out my arms to you, that I long to clasp you to my heart, and to
fall asleep in your hair? What is there more sacred in the world than to
love one's wife or love one's husband? (Midnight strikes.)

Madame--(she suddenly changes hey expression at the sound, throws her
arms round her husband, and hurriedly kisses him thrice)--You thought I
did not love you, eh, dear? Oh, yes! I love you. Great baby! not to see
that I was waiting the time.

Monsieur--What time, dear?

Madame--The time. It has struck twelve, see. (She blushes crimson.)
Friday is over. (She holds out her hand for him to kiss.)

Monsieur--Are you sure the clock is not five minutes fast, love?

CHAPTER XIX. A LITTLE CHAT

MADAME F-----MADAME H------

(These ladies are seated at needlework as they talk.)

Madame F--For myself, you know, my dear, I fulfil my duties tolerably,
still I am not what would be called a devotee. By no means. Pass me your
scissors. Thanks.

Madame H--You are quite welcome, dear. What a time those little squares
of lace must take. I am like yourself in respect of religion; in