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Updated: May 2, 2025
And, in your jargon, you call this having character. Oh, how much better we are!" She goes and sits down in Adolphe's lap, and Adolphe cannot help smiling. This smile, extracted as if by a steam engine, Caroline has been on the watch for, in order to make a weapon of it. "Come, old fellow, confess that you are wrong," she says. "Why pout?
She proposed to hear a low mass, but she was afraid of losing the delight of her dear Adolphe's first glance, in case he arrived at early dawn.
She is too sweet: she would invent the art of petting and cosseting and of coining tender little names, if this matrimonial sugar-plummery had not existed ever since the Terrestrial Paradise. At the end of the month, Adolphe's condition is like that of children towards the close of New Year's week.
A quizzical idea enters Adolphe's head, and he replies, winking with one eye only: "I have just seen him." "Where?" "In front of the Cafe de Paris, with some friends." "But why have you come back?" says Caroline, trying to conceal her murderous fury. "Madame Foullepointe, who was tired of Charles, you said, has been with him at Ville d'Avray since yesterday."
Claire, as any intimate female friend would have done, consoled herself for her president by insinuations respecting Adolphe's prospects and future conduct.
Marie said that she would consent to marry the capitaine when she should hear from Adolphe's own mouth that he, Adolphe, loved her no longer. She declared with many tears that her vows and pledges prevented her from promising more than this. It was not her fault, at any rate not now, that she loved her lover. It was not her fault not now at least that she was bound by these pledges.
Caroline, when she has once planted in Adolphe's heart the apprehension of a scene of constantly reiterated demands, feels her hatred for his control largely increase.
Henri knelt down on the floor, by the side of the low wooden stretcher, and putting his arm over Adolphe's shoulder, thought for a while what he could say to comfort the crushed spirit of the poor wretch, whose insanity had not the usual effect of protecting him from misery.
Some one alludes to the frightful prevalence of inflammation of the stomach, or to the nameless diseases of which young women die. "Ah, too happy they!" exclaims Caroline, as if she were foretelling the manner of her death. Adolphe's mother-in-law comes to see her daughter. Caroline says, "My husband's parlor:" "Your master's chamber." Everything in the house belongs to "My husband."
On her part, it is a delicious joke, a new jest to enliven their married life, and one dictated by the purest intentions; while on Adolphe's part, it is a piece of cruelty worthy a Carib, a disregard of his wife's heart, and a deliberate plan to give her pain. But that is nothing. "So you are really in love with Madame de Fischtaminel?" Caroline asks.
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