"He's a regular bigot at bottom, so he
says his prayers every evening. Yes, he does. He's under the impression
I notice nothing because I go to bed first so as not to be in his way,
but I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Oh, he jaws away, and then
he crosses himself when he turns round to step over me and get to the
inside of the bed."
"Jove, it's sly," muttered Philippe. "That's what happens before, but
afterward, what then?"
She laughed merrily.
"Yes, just so, before and after! When I'm going to sleep I hear him
jawing away again. But the biggest bore of all is that we can't argue
about anything now without his growing 'pi.' I've always been religious.
Yes, chaff as much as you like; that won't prevent me believing what
I do believe! Only he's too much of a nuisance: he blubbers; he talks
about remorse. The day before yesterday, for instance, he had a regular
fit of it after our usual row, and I wasn't the least bit reassured when
all was over."
But she broke off, crying out:
"Just look at the Mignons arriving. Dear me, they've brought the
children! Oh, how those little chaps are dressed up!"
The Mignons were in a landau of severe hue; there was something
substantially luxurious about their turnout, suggesting rich retired
tradespeople.
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