"And what and who, in Heaven's name, is keeping you, monsieur? If you have a passion--a mania, I call it--for travelling, if repose is so irksome to you, why don't you travel? Go to the Caucasus! Go to the North Pole, if you like, start at once, make haste about it. We shall both be the gainers by it. I shall no longer distress you by the sight of my atrocious indolence, and you will cease to irritate my nerves by the restlessness that prevents you from remaining for a moment in one place or allowing others to do so. Twenty times a day you rush into my room merely for the sake of coming and going; or, even worse, marvellous as it may appear, you come and wake me at five o'clock in the morning to propose a horseback ride, or to take me to the natatorium. You have even gone so far as to insist upon my practising gymnastics a little. Gymnastics! Who but you would ever think of such a thing? So, monsieur, I repeat that your absurd ideas, your constant coming and going, the sort of perpetual motion you keep up, the spirit of unrest that seems to possess you, causes me quite as much annoyance as my indolence can possibly cause you. Consequently you need not suppose for one moment that you alone have cause to complain, and as we have both made up our minds to say our say to each other, I declare in my turn, monsieur, that such a life as this is intolerable to me, and, unless there is a change for the better, I do not intend to put up with it much longer." "What do you mean by that, madame?" "I mean that it would be very foolish for us to go on interfering with and annoying each other. You have your tastes, I have mine; you have your fortune, I have mine; then let us live as seems good to us, and, for Heaven's sake, let us, above all, live in quiet." "I admire your assurance, really, madame. It is something marvellous! Do you suppose I married to lead a life that was not to my liking?" "Oh, _mon Dieu_! live as you please, monsieur, but let me live as I please, as well." "It pleases me, madame, to live with you. It was for that I married you, I think; so it is for you to accept my sort of life. Yes, madame, I have the right to expect it, ay, to demand it; and you may rest assured that I shall have the energy to enforce my demands." "What you say is perfectly ridiculous, M. de Luceval." "Ah, you think so, do you?" retorted the husband, with a sardonic smile. "Yes, ridiculous in the highest degree." "Then the Civil Code is ridiculous in the highest degree, I suppose?" "Very possibly, monsieur, as you bring it into this discussion. I don't know enough about it to judge, however." "Then understand, once for all, madame, that the Civil Code expressly states that a woman is expected, obliged, compelled to follow her husband." "To the Caucasus?" "Wherever he may see fit to take her." "I am in no mood for jesting, monsieur. But for that, your interpretation of the Civil Code would amuse me immensely."