Her little weakness, aniseed, did not make her vicious, but just.

On the evenings when she had forgotten herself in the company of a bottle of her favourite liqueur, if Antoine tried to pick a quarrel with her, she would set upon him with might and main, reproaching him with his idleness and ingratitude.

The neighbours grew accustomed to the disturbances which periodically broke out in the couple's room.

The two battered each other conscientiously; the wife slapped like a mother chastising a naughty child; but the husband, treacherous and spiteful as he was, measured his blows, and, on several occasions, very nearly crippled the unfortunate woman.
"You'll be in a fine plight when you've broken one of my arms or legs," she would say to him.

"Who'll keep you then, you lazy fellow ?" Excepting for these turbulent scenes, Antoine began to find his new mode of existence quite endurable.