This creature would surely watch the will of her patron, a sexagenarian with an apoplectic neck, which became the color of dregs of wine after a glass of brandy.
M.Gaufre, although very practical and a churchwarden at St.Sulpice, had always had a taste for liaisons.

His wife, during her life--he had been a widower for a dozen years--had been one of those unfortunate beings of whom people said, "That poor lady is to be pitied; she never can keep a servant." She had in vain taken girls from the provinces, without beauty and certified to be virtuous.

One by one--a Flemish girl, an Alsatian, three Nivernaise, two from Picardy; even a young girl from Beauce, hired on account of her certificate as "the best-behaved girl in the village"-- they were unsparingly devoured by the minotaur of the Rue Servandoni.

All were turned out of doors, with a conscientious blow in the face, by the justly irritated spouse.

When he became a widower he gave himself up to his liaisons in perfect security, but without scandal, of course, as to his passion for servants.