this Miss Zénobie" (Zoraïde, interposed I)"—"well, Zoraïde—is she really married to Pelet?"
"I tell you yes—and if you don't believe me, go and ask the curé of St. Jacques."
"And your heart is broken?"
"I am not aware that it is; it feels all right—beats as usual."
"Then your feelings are less superfine than I took them to be; you must be a coarse, callous character, to bear such a thwack without staggering under it."
"Staggering under it? What the deuce is there to stagger under in the circumstance of a Belgian schoolmistress marrying a French schoolmaster? The progeny will doubtless be a strange hybrid race; but that's their look out—not mine."
"He indulges in scurrilous jests, and the bride was his affianced one!"
"Who said so?"
"Brown."
