And Mme. Leuillet let him think that he was quite right; and she laughed very heartily, turned the first husband into ridicule in a playful fashion for the amusement of his successor, who always ended by remarking: "Never mind! Souris was a muff!" They were happy, quite happy. And Leuillet never ceased to testify his unabated attachment to his wife by all the usual manifestations. Now, one night when they happened to be both kept awake by the renewal of youthful ardor, Leuillet, who held his wife clasped tightly in his arms, and had his lips glued to hers, said: "Tell me this, darling." "What?" "Souris--'tisn't easy to put the question--was he very--very amorous?" She gave him a warm kiss, as she murmured: "Not so much as you, my duck." His male vanity was flattered, and he went on: "He must have been--rather a flat--eh?" She did not answer. There was merely a sly little laugh on her face, which she pressed close to her husband's neck. He persisted in his questions: "Come now! Don't deny that he was a flat--well, I mean, rather an awkward sort of fellow?" She nodded slightly. "Well, yes, rather awkward." He went on: "I'm sure he used to weary you many a night--isn't that so?" This time, she had an access of frankness, and she replied: "Oh! yes." He embraced her once more when she made this acknowledgment, and murmured: "What an ass he was! You were not happy with him?" She answered: "No. He was not always jolly." Leuillet felt quite delighted, making a comparison in his own mind between his wife's former situation and her present one. He remained silent for some time: then, with a fresh outburst of merit, he said: "Tell me this!" "What?" "Will you be quite candid--quite candid with me?" "Certainly, dear." "Well, look here! Have you never been tempted to--to deceive this imbecile, Souris?" Mme. Leuillet uttered a little "Oh!" in a shamefaced way, and again cuddled her face closer to her husband's chest. But he could see that she was laughing. He persisted: "Come now, confess it! He had a head just suited for a cuckold, this blockhead! It would be so funny! This good Souris! Oh! I say, darling, you might tell it to me--only to me!" He emphasized the words "to me," feeling certain that if she wanted to show any taste when she deceived her husband, he, Leuillet, would have been the man; and he quivered with joy at the expectation of this avowal, sure that if she had not been the virtuous woman she was he could have had her then. But she did not reply, laughing incessantly as if at the recollection of something infinitely comic. Leuillet, in his turn, burst out laughing at the notion that he might have made a cuckold of Souris. What a good joke! What a capital bit of fun, to be sure! He exclaimed in a voice broken by convulsions of laughter. "Oh! poor Souris! poor Souris! Ah! yes, he had that sort of head--oh, certainly he had!"