lax, his
forehead becomes calm, he is on the point of losing all consciousness of
the realities of this life.

Madame taps lightly on her husband's shoulder.

"Hum," growls Monsieur.

Madame taps again.

"Well, what is it?"

Madame, in an angelic tone of voice, "My dear, would you put out the
candle?"

Monsieur, without opening his eyes, "The hot-water bottle, the candle,
the candle, the hot-water bottle."

"Good heavens! how irritable you are, Oscar. I will put it out myself.
Don't trouble yourself. You really have a very bad temper, my dear; you
are angry, and if you were goaded a little, you would, in five minutes,
be capable of anything."

Monsieur, his voice smothered in the pillow, "No, not at all; I am
sleepy, dear, that is all. Good-night, my dear."

Madame, briskly, "You forget that in domestic life good feeling has for
its basis reciprocal consideration."

"I was wrong--come, good-night." He raises himself up a little. "Would
you like me to kiss you?"

"I don't want you to, but I permit." She puts her face toward that of her
husband, who kisses her on the forehead. "You are really too good, you
have kissed my nightcap."

Monsieur, smiling, "Your hair smells very nice . . . You see I am so
sleepy. Ah! you have it in little plaits, you are going to wave it
to-morrow."

"To wave it. You were the first to find that that way of dressing it
became me, besides, it is the fashion, and tomorrow is my reception day.
Come, you irritable man, embrace me once for all and snore at your ease,
you are dying to do so."

She holds her neck toward her husband.

Monsieur, laughing, "In the first place, I never snore. I never joke." He
kisses his wife's neck, and rests his head on her shoulder.

"Well, what are you doing there?" is her remark.

"I am digesting my kiss."

Madame affects the lackadaisical, and looks sidewise at her husband with
an eye half disarmed. Monsieur sniffs the loved perfume with open
nostrils.

After a period of silence he whispers in his wife's ear, "I am not at all
sleepy now, dear. Are your feet still cold? I will find the hot-water
bottle."

"Oh, thanks, put out the light and let us go to sleep; I am quite tired
out."

She turns round by resting her arm on his face.

"No, no, I won't have you go to sleep with your feet chilled; there is
nothing worse. There, there is the hot-water bottle, warm your poor
little feet . . . there . . . like that."

"Thanks, I am very comfo