"Who is there?" someone asked at last; and I recognized Pélagie's voice.
"It's I, my dear love."
"Oh! is it you, monsieur my husband?"
"Yes, my dear; come, let me in quickly."
"What for?"
"Parbleu! I'll tell you in a minute. Open the door."
"Oh! I can't!"
"You can't! what does that mean? that's decidedly new!"
"My aunt told me not to."
"Your aunt doesn't know what she says. As she has been a widow
thirty-three years, perhaps she has forgotten that husbands and wives
sleep together."
"Oh, yes! I know that you will sleep with me finally; but she told me
that modesty requires me to postpone the time as long as possible."
"And I tell you that we must sleep together at once; modesty has nothing
more to do with our love; hymen has its rights, and you must listen to
it now; the pleasures it permits should not alarm your modesty."
"I don't understand all that."
"I will make you understand it when I am with you. Open the door, I beg
you. I can't begin to instruct you with this door between us."
"I'm afraid that my aunt----"
"Look you, madame, I am your husband, after all; you swore this morning
to be obedient and submissive to me, and you are violating your oaths
already! Come, Pélagie, I beg you, let's not begin with a quarrel; open
the door at once; if you don't, I'll set the house on fire."
"Oh! mon Dieu!"
She opened the door instantly; she was in her chemise and hurried back
to hide herself in her bed; but it was easy for me to find her now. I
still had a few obstacles to overcome; but they were not at all
disagreeable; indeed, I should have been very much distressed if I had
not encountered them! On this occasion the rose was not without thorns.
Let us draw the curtain over the mysteries of hymen, although they are
one of Polichinelle's secrets.