‘My little tree, my little donkey, my mother, my brother, my country, my little God, my little sea-shell, my lotus flower, my little stranger, my darling, my little plant, do go away and let me dress, and I’ll meet you, Rue de la Baume, at eight o’clock. But please don’t be any later than quarter past, because I am very hungry.’
She tried to close the door on Honoré, but again he said, ‘Neck!’ and at once she held out her neck to him with a docility and exorbitant alacrity that made him burst out laughing.
‘Even if you objected,’ he said, ‘there would still exist between your neck and my mouth, between your ears and my mustache, between your hands and my hands, little personal understandings. I am sure they would go on even if we stopped loving each other, just as my valet, since my quarrel with my cousin Pauline, for all I can do, continues to go to see her maid every evening. It is entirely of itself, without my consent that my mouth goes toward your neck.’

She knew that he could not resist that little movement of her head. He threw himself on her, kissing her, and then said very slowly, ‘Cruel!’ and so tenderly that her eyes filled with tears.