“Why yes, my dear.” “Well then, tell me truly did you never feel tempted to--to--to deceive that imbecile Souris?” Mme. Leuillet said: “Oh!” pretending to be shocked and hid her face again on her husband's shoulder. But he saw that she was laughing. “Come now, own up,” he persisted. “He looked like a ninny, that creature! It would be funny, so funny! Good old Souris! Come, come, dearie, you do not mind telling me, me, of all people.” He insisted on the “me” thinking that if she had wished to deceive Souris she would have chosen him, and he was trembling in anticipation of her avowal, sure that if she had not been a virtuous woman she would have encouraged his own attentions. But she did not answer, laughing still, as at the recollection of something exceedingly comical. Leuillet, in his turn began to laugh, thinking he might have been the lucky man, and he muttered amid his mirth: “That poor Souris, that poor Souris, oh, yes, he looked like a fool!” Mme. Leuillet was almost in spasms of laughter. “Come, confess, be frank. You know I will not mind.” Then she stammered out, almost choking with laughter: “Yes, yes.” “Yes, what?” insisted her husband. “Come, tell all.” She was quieter now and putting her mouth to her husband's ear, she whispered: “Yes, I did deceive him.” He felt a chill run down his back and to his very bones, and he stammered out, dumfounded: “You--you--deceived him--criminally?” She still thought he was amused and replied: “Yes--yes, absolutely.” He was obliged to sit up to recover his breath, he was so shocked and upset at what he had heard. She had become serious, understanding too late what she had done. “With whom?” said Leuillet at length. She was silent seeking some excuse. “A young man,” she replied at length. He turned suddenly toward her and said drily: “I did not suppose it was the cook. I want to know what young man, do you hear?” She did not answer. He snatched the covers from her face, repeating: “I want to know what young man, do you hear?” Then she said sorrowfully: “I was only in fun.” But he was trembling with rage. “What? How? You were only in fun? You were making fun of me, then? But I am not satisfied, do you hear? I want the name of the young man!” She did not reply, but lay there motionless. He took her by the arm and squeezed it, saying: “Do you understand me, finally? I wish you to reply when I speak to you.” “I think you are going crazy,” she said nervously, “let me alone!” He was wild with rage, not knowing what to say, exasperated, and he shook her with all his might, repeating: “Do you hear me, do you hear me?” She made an abrupt effort to disengage herself and the tips of her fingers touched her husband's nose. He was furious, thinking she had tried to hit him, and he sprang upon her holding her down; and boxing her ears with all his might, he cried: “Take that, and that, there, there, wretch!”