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"When she saw us take up our position close to them she murmured: 'Are there no other places on the river? My wife, who was furious, replied: 'People who have any manners make inquiries about the habits of the neighborhood before occupying reserved spots. "As I did not want a fuss, I said to her: 'Hold your tongue, Melie. Let them alone, let them alone; we shall see.
He made her a present of a pair of lady's boots, and often treated her to a glass of aniseed cordial. To save her trouble he rose early, chopped up the wood, lighted the fire, and was so attentive as to clean Bouvard's shoes. Mélie did not faint or let her handkerchief fall, and Pécuchet did not know what to do, his passion increasing through the fear of satisfying it.
"And then we returned to dinner. I was happy and thirsty, and that was the cause of everything. I said to Melie: 'Look here, Melie, it is fine weather, suppose I drink a bottle of 'Casque a meche'. That is a weak white wine which we have christened so, because if you drink too much of it it prevents you from sleeping and takes the place of a nightcap. Do you understand me?
Then, turning to my friend: "Why did you come on Thursday? You know quite well that this is the day I consult my Guardian Saint. I cannot go out this afternoon." And running to the door, he uttered a terrific roar: "Melie!" which must have startled the sailors in the ships along the stream in the valley below. Melie did not reply. Then Matthew winked his eye knowingly.
She waits for him at the door of the house, and as he enters she roars at him: "'So there you are, slut, hog, giggling sot! "Then Matthew, who is not laughing any longer, plants himself opposite her and says in a severe tone: "'Be still, Melie; this is no time to talk; wait till to-morrow. "If she keeps on shouting at him, he goes up to her and says in a shaky voice: "'Don't bawl any more.
"He declares that he never reached his limit, but as he acknowledges that his observations cease to be exact when he has passed ninety, one cannot depend absolutely on the truth of that statement. "When Matthew acknowledges that he has passed ninety, you may rest assured that he is blind drunk. "On these occasions his wife, Melie, another marvel, flies into a fury.
Bouvard asked him what was the matter, and thereupon Pécuchet, having first taken the precaution to shut the door, explained in a hesitating manner that he was affected with a certain disease. "What! You?" "I myself." "Oh, my poor fellow! And who is the cause of this?" Pécuchet became redder than before, and said in a still lower tone: "It can be only Mélie." Bouvard remained stupefied.
At once, before bidding us good-day, she cried: "Great hog, you have both of you reached your limit!" "Don't say that, Melie; don't say that," said Matthew, getting angry. "I have never reached my limit." They gave us a delicious luncheon outside beneath two lime trees, beside the little chapel and overlooking the vast landscape.
In front of them, on the lot "For Sale," enclosed by rotten boards, where one could always see tufts of nettles and a goat tied to a stake, and upon the high wall above which by the end of April the lilacs hung in their perfumed clusters, the rains had not effaced this brutal declaration of love, scraped with a knife in the plaster: "When Melie wishes she can have me," and signed "Eugene."
The weather promised to keep fine, and I said to Melie: 'All right for to-morrow! And she replied: 'It looks like it. We never talk more than that together. "And then we returned to dinner. I was happy and thirsty, and that was the cause of everything. I said to Melie: 'Look here Melie, it is fine weather, so suppose I drink a bottle of Casque a meche.
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