She has an angel's disposition, my wife.

She is no longer young, always ill; a mere breath; but she is an angel.

I'll locate you in the library--you'll live like a hermit, if you like.

Mon Dieu! I see it all, I tell you; these madcaps of mine frighten you; you are a serious man; I know all about that sort of disposition! Well! you'll find congenial company--my wife is full of sense; I am no fool myself.

I am fond of exercise; in fact, it is indispensable to my health--but you must not take me for a brute! The devil! not at all! I'll astonish you.