“Yes, monsieur, I am obliged to come to the garden to meet you.” “It is true that in Paris, when people are not looking for each other----” “And even if they are looking for each other, that is no reason why they should find each other. Have you just been married again, monsieur?” “No, madame. That is well enough when one is a bachelor--to take a new wife every week.” “You have reformed now, I suppose?” “Yes, madame, entirely.” “I congratulate you. And yet, although you have reformed, you look very much to me as if you were here to keep an appointment.” “That is true, madame, but appointments do not always mean love-affairs.” “I don’t know what they mean; but you are waiting for someone, and I’ll bet that it’s a woman.” “You are not mistaken; moreover, a woman whom I am going to take to dinner in a private room at a restaurant.” “You have reformed with a vengeance! But I should have been more surprised to find it the other way. It was well worth while to get married!” “Madame, I will not prolong your error; it is my wife for whom I am waiting, and whom I agreed to meet here.” “Your wife! I beg pardon, monsieur, pray receive my apology. I had no suspicion that you had become a Philemon. Come, joking aside, is it really your wife that you are waiting for?” “Yes, to be sure. What is there so extraordinary in that?” “Do you mean that you are still in love with your wife?” “Still! why it seems to me that I was married only yesterday!” “Bless my soul! how touching!” Lucile bit her lips with a sneering smile. I had no wish to prolong my conversation with her, although I was certain that my wife would not come so early. I made a motion to bid her adieu; she grasped my arm. “What, you are going to leave me so soon? Mon Dieu! don’t tremble so; your wife will not come yet.” “I trust not; for, frankly, I would not like to have her see me talking with you.” “Would she whip you?” “No, she wouldn’t do anything; but she is jealous, and it would make her unhappy.” “She would be very foolish to be jealous of me.” “That is true; but jealous people often are foolish, you know.” “Henri, I am going to make a proposition to you.” “What is it?” “Take me to dinner instead of your wife. You can tell her this evening that you had an engagement that you couldn’t break.” “No, I haven’t reached that point yet, thank heaven!” “Oh! I was only joking, monsieur; I know that you are too virtuous to play such a trick. Have you got ants on your legs?” “No, but I don’t want to stand here.” “Very well; let us walk then.” “I don’t want to walk with you.” “But what if I don’t choose to leave you?” “I beg you, Lucile, let me go.” “Dear me! monsieur assumes his sentimental air. Look you, the garden is free to all; if I choose to walk beside you, you have no right to prevent me. Besides, I am very curious to see your wife. Will she eat me if she finds me with you? Ah! monsieur refuses to answer any more questions; monsieur is angry.”