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I certainly had made progress. Feeling in a benevolent mood, I set forth
the advantages she would reap by assuming her legal status; how at last
she would shake the dust of Bohemia from off her feet, and instead of
standing at the threshold like a disconsolate Peri, she would enter as a
right the Paradise of Philistia which she craved; how her life would be
one continual tea-party, and how, as her husband had doubtless by this
time obtained his promotion, she would be authorised to adopt high and
mighty airs in her relations with the wives of all the captains and
lieutenants in the regiment. She sighed and wondered whether she would
like it, after all.
"Here in England I can say 'damn' as often as I choose. I don't say it
very often, but sometimes I feel I must say it or explode."
"There are its equivalents in French," I suggested.
She laughed outright. "Fancy my coming out with a _sacre nom de Dieu_ in
a French drawing-room!"
"Fancy you shouting 'damn' in an English one."
"That's true," she said.


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