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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Marneffe, my dear boy," said she, leaning on her husband's shoulder, and passing her pretty fingers through his dingy gray hair, but without succeeding in covering his bald head with it, "it is very late for you; you ought to be in bed. To-morrow, you know, you must dose yourself by the doctor's orders. Reine will give you your herb tea at seven. If you wish to live, give up your game."
And, strangest thing of all, the Baroness was true to herself and to her love, while preparing to yield to the grossest infidelity, such as the storm of passion even does not justify in the eyes of some judges. "What can I do to become a Madame Marneffe?" she asked herself as she heard the door-bell.
"And they say she is so handsome!" replied Madame Marneffe. "I want proof." "You shall have it," said the Baron, made happy by this demand, by which his Valerie committed herself.
"We will pay it out up to five points," said Marneffe to Crevel. "Very good I have scored two," replied the Mayor. "How long will it take you?" "Ten minutes," said Marneffe. "It is eleven o'clock," replied Valerie. "Really, Monsieur Crevel, one might fancy you meant to kill my husband. Make haste, at any rate." This double-barreled speech made Crevel and Hulot smile, and even Marneffe himself.
The sight of the Government official had, as will be seen, made a deep impression on this couple. "Why, it is Baron Hulot, the chief of the department to which my office belongs!" exclaimed the husband as he left the window. "Well, Marneffe, the old maid on the third floor at the back of the courtyard, who lives with that young man, is his cousin.
Madame Marneffe could assure him that she had a hundred times detected the white line of the growth of the hair. "And white hair suits your face to perfection," said she; "it softens it. You look a thousand times better, quite charming." The Baron, once started on this path of reform, gave up his leather waistcoat and stays; he threw off all his bracing. His stomach fell and increased in size.
At the liveliest moment of the evening Crevel led the Baron aside, and said in a whisper, with the most natural manner possible: "By Jove! that's a pretty woman the little lady in pink who has opened a racking fire on you from her eyes." "Which?" "The wife of that clerk you are promoting, heaven knows how! Madame Marneffe." "What do you know about it?"
He is ten years younger than the Baron, to be sure, and was only a tradesman; but how can it end? This Madame Marneffe has made a slave of my father; he is her dog; she is mistress of his fortune and his opinions, and nothing can open his eyes. I tremble when I remember that their banns of marriage are already published!
Lisbeth, to all appearance at war with Madame Marneffe, had taken up her abode with Marshal Hulot.
Marneffe opened the door, but only to put himself into an attitude and point to the stairs, exactly as Hulot had shown him the door of his private room. "You are too exclusively Hulot, Monsieur Hulot!" said he. The Baron tried to pass him, Marneffe took a pistol out of his pocket and cocked it.
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