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Updated: August 21, 2024
"You said he was young and fair," whispers Madame Deschars. Madame Foullepointe, knowing lady that she is, boldly stares at the ceiling. A month after, Madame Foullepointe and Caroline become intimate. Adolphe, who is taken up with Madame de Fischtaminel, pays no attention to this dangerous friendship, a friendship which will bear its fruits, for pray learn this Axiom.
I am going to make his acquaintance immediately." And Foullepointe executes his retreat, leaving a bitter suspicion in Caroline's soul, as to the question whether her husband is really as handsome as she thinks him.
ANOTHER EXAMPLE. A child belonging to the genus Terrible, exclaims in the presence of everybody: "Mamma, would you let Justine hit me?" "Certainly not." "Why do you ask, my little man?" inquires Madame Foullepointe. "Because she just gave father a big slap, and he's ever so much stronger than me."
Madame Foullepointe, a pretty brunette, a genuine Parisian, slight and erect in form, the brilliant light of her eye quenched by her long lashes, charmingly dressed, sits down upon the sofa.
Everybody listens and looks. Adolphe becomes the object of every one's attention; he is literally dumb with amazement: if he could, he would whisk Caroline off through a trap, as at the theatre. "This is Monsieur Foullepointe, my husband," says Madame Foullepointe. Caroline turns scarlet as she sees her ridiculous blunder, and Adolphe scathes her with a look of thirty-six candlepower.
"Well, then, be good enough to present Monsieur and Madame Foullepointe to me. I should be delighted to learn how she manages to make her husband love her so much: have they been married long?" "Five years, just like us." "O Adolphe, dear, I am dying to know her: make us intimately acquainted. Am I as pretty as she?"
Caroline bows to a fat gentleman with thin gray hair, who follows this Paris Andalusian, and who exhibits a face and paunch fit for Silenus, a butter-colored pate, a deceitful, libertine smile upon his big, heavy lips, in short, a philosopher! Caroline looks upon this individual with astonishment. "Monsieur Foullepointe, my dear," says Adolphe, presenting the worthy quinquagenarian. "Madame !"
"So I am to live a long time I am in the way you don't love me any more I won't consult that doctor again I don't know why Madame Foullepointe advised me to see him, he told me nothing but trash I know better than he what I need!" "What do you need?" "Can you ask, ungrateful man?" and Caroline leans her head on Adolphe's shoulder.
A man well known for his bluntness, whose acquaintance she is to make later in life, but whom she now sees for the first time, Monsieur Foullepointe, has commenced a conversation with Caroline's friend. According to the custom of society, Caroline listens to this conversation without mingling in it.
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."
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