Yves, Chrysanthème, and little Oyouki have struck up a friendship so
great that it amuses me: I even think, that in my home life, this
intimacy is what affords me the greatest entertainment. They form a
contrast which gives rise to the most absurd jokes, and most
unforeseen situations. He brings into this fragile little paper house,
his sailor's freedom and ease of manner, and his Breton accent; side
by side with these tiny mousmés of affected manners and bird-like
voices, who, small as they are, rule the big fellow as they please;
make him eat with chopsticks; teach him Japanese "_pigeon-vole_,"--and
cheat him, and quarrel, and almost die of laughter over it all.
Certainly he and Chrysanthème take a pleasure in each other's company.
But I remain serenely undisturbed, and cannot imagine that this
little chance doll with whom I play at married life, could possibly
bring a serious trouble between this "brother" and myself.