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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"The Widow Lerouge"

He looked at
Juliette; and his anger took flight. Already he began to ask himself if
he had not been a little cruel to her. When Charlotte retired, he came
and took a seat on the divan beside his mistress, and attempted to put
his arms round her. "Come," said he in a caressing tone, "you have been
angry enough for this evening. If I have done wrong, you have punished
me sufficiently. Kiss me, and make it up."
She repulsed him angrily, and said in a dry tone,--"Let me alone! How
many times must I tell you that I am very unwell this evening."
"You suffer, my love?" resumed the advocate, "where? Shall I send for
the doctor?"
"There is no need. I know the nature of my malady; it is called ennui.
You are not at all the doctor who could do anything for me."
Noel rose with a discouraged air, and took his place at the side of the
tea-table, facing her. His resignation bespoke how habituated he had
become to these rebuffs. Juliette snubbed him; but he returned always,
like the poor dog who lies in wait all day for the time when his
caresses will not be inopportune. "You have told me very often during
the last few months, that I bother you.


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