"I think that this will do me good," said Monsieur Glumeau, as he drank his tea in little sips; "lemon juice in tea clears up the bile."
"But why will you have it that you're bilious, my dear? Your complexion is very clear, you are not yellow."
"You say I am not yellow, my dear love; that's a question! I am a little yellow--on one side of my nose; and I don't propose to wait until I am as yellow as a pumpkin before I take a purgative."
"Do you mean to say that you propose to purge yourself again? That would be the last straw. You took Sedlitz water a fortnight ago."
"What does that prove, if I need it again?"
Madame Glumeau shrugged her shoulders, exclaiming:
"You make yourself sick by dosing yourself, Edouard!"
"Why no, my dear love, one doesn't make oneself sick by taking care of oneself; on the contrary, it prevents one from being sick."
"You know that we have company to dinner to-day. I trust that you don't propose to select this moment to take medicine."
"I am not talking about medicine to-day; but listen: just now I was reading in my paper the announcement of a most valuable discovery."
"Something to prevent potatoes from being sick?"
"But, my dear, they are so useful, so nourishing, so valuable, so----"
"Let me alone with your potatoes; I don't like them. What I am talking about is an infallible remedy for the gravel."
"What a misfortune it is to be afraid of all diseases!"
"I am not afraid of them, madame, but I simply am on my guard against them; it isn't from fear, it's from prudence, from common sense."
"Bless my soul! if all men resembled you, it would be amusing."
"I mean that by dint of thinking about diseases, you think that you have them all, and it doesn't tend to make you a lively companion in society."
"If you wish for peace, prepare for war."
"What connection has that with your lemon juice in tea?"
"It also means: If you want to be well, look after yourself as if you were ill."
"Oh! as to that, I don't believe a word of it; do I dose myself, monsieur? and you see how well I am!"
"It is a fact that you are getting too stout, my dear love; but if you would have consented to take a little white mustard seed, you would have lost flesh."
"No, thanks, monsieur; I should probably have become like a lath, and I prefer to remain as I am. To hear you talk, one would say that I was enormous."