(making no answer to the lady next him and speaking aside)
--Oh! Oh! Can it be that it is M. de L-----, author of the _Dreams of
a Young Girl_, whom my wife is in love with?--That is singular; I
thought that it was Doctor M-----. But stay! (Aloud.) Do you know, my
dear, that you are right in what you say? (All laugh.) Really, I
should prefer to have always artists and men of letters in my
drawing-room--(aside) when we begin to receive!--rather than to see
there other professional men. In any case artists speak of things
about
which every one is enthusiastic, for who is there who does not believe
in good taste? But judges, lawyers, and, above all, doctors--Heavens!
I confess that to hear them constantly speaking about lawsuits and
diseases, those two human ills--
WIFE A. (sitting next to Husband B, speaking at the same time)--What
is that you are saying, my friend? You are quite mistaken. In these
days nobody wishes to wear a professional manner; doctors, since you
have mentioned doctors, try to avoid speaking of professional matters.
They talk politics, discuss the fashions and the theatres, they tell
anecdotes, they write books better than professional authors do; there
is a vast difference between the doctors of to-day and those of
Moliere--
HUSBAND A. (aside)--Whew! Is it possible my wife is in love with Dr.
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