Caroline, after a week spent in taking note of her husband’s absences, perceives that he passes seven hours a day away from her.  At last, Adolphe, who comes home as gay as an actor who has been applauded, observes a slight coating of hoar frost upon Caroline’s visage.  After making sure that the coldness of her manner has been observed, Caroline puts on a counterfeit air of interest,—­the well-known expression of which possesses the gift of making a man inwardly swear,—­and says:  “You must have had a good deal of business to-day, dear?”

“Oh, lots!”

“Did you take many cabs?”

“I took seven francs’ worth.”

“Did you find everybody in?”

“Yes, those with whom I had appointments.”

“When did you make appointments with them?  The ink in your inkstand is dried up; it’s like glue; I wanted to write, and spent a whole hour in moistening it, and even then only produced a thick mud fit to mark bundles with for the East Indies.”

Here any and every husband looks suspiciously at his better half.

“It is probable that I wrote them at Paris—­”

“What business was it, Adolphe?”

“Why, I thought you knew.  Shall I run over the list?  First, there’s Chaumontel’s affair—­”

“I thought Monsieur Chaumontel was in Switzerland—­”

“Yes, but he has representatives, a lawyer—­”

“Didn’t you do anything else but business?” asks Caroline, interrupting Adolphe.

Here she gives him a direct, piercing look, by which she plunges into her husband’s eyes when he least expects it:  a sword in a heart.

“What could I have done?  Made a little counterfeit money, run into debt, or embroidered a sampler?”

“Oh, dear, I don’t know.  And I can’t even guess.  I am too dull, you’ve told me so a hundred times.”

“There you go, and take an expression of endearment in bad part.  How like a woman that is!”

“Have you concluded anything?” she asks, pretending to take an interest in business.

“No, nothing,”

“How many persons have you seen?”

“Eleven, without counting those who were walking in the streets.”

“How you answer me!”

“Yes, and how you question me!  As if you’d been following the trade of an examining judge for the last ten years!”

“Come, tell me all you’ve done to-day, it will amuse me.  You ought to try to please me while you are here!  I’m dull enough when you leave me alone all day long.”

“You want me to amuse you by telling you about business?”

“Formerly, you told me everything—­”

This friendly little reproach disguises the certitude that Caroline wishes to enjoy respecting the serious matters which Adolphe wishes to conceal.  Adolphe then undertakes to narrate how he has spent the day.  Caroline affects a sort of distraction sufficiently well played to induce the belief that she is not listening.