But two men to coddle was often more than she could manage.

Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ one husband is already too much for a woman! The worst was that they got on very well together, the rogues.

They never quarreled; they would chuckle in each other's faces, as they sat of an evening after dinner, their elbows on the table; they would rub up against one another all the live-long day, like cats which seek and cultivate their pleasure.

The days when they came home in a rage, it was on her that they vented it.

Go it! hammer away at the animal! She had a good back; it made them all the better friends when they yelled together.