cut open the cake; then he looked as if he were getting tired of it; and
one evening Madame Anserre, the beautiful Madame Anserre, was seen
cutting it herself. But this appeared to be very wearisome to her, and,
next day, she urged one of her guests so strongly to do it that he did
not dare to refuse.

The symbol was too well known, however; the guests stared at one another
with scared, anxious faces. To cut the cake was nothing, but the
privileges to which this favor had always given a claim now frightened
people; therefore, the moment the dish made its appearance the
academicians rushed pellmell into the Salon of Agriculture, as if to
shelter themselves behind the husband, who was perpetually smiling. And
when Madame Anserre, in a state of anxiety, presented herself at the
door with a cake in one hand and the knife in the other, they all seemed
to form a circle around her husband as if to appeal to him for
protection.

Some years more passed. Nobody cut the cake now; but yielding to an old
inveterate habit, the lady who had always been gallantly called "the
beautiful Madame Anserre" looked out each evening for some devotee to
take the knife, and each time the same movement took place around her, a
general flight, skillfully arranged and full of combined maneuvers that
showed great cleverness, in order to avoid the offer that was rising to
her lips.

But, one evening, a young man presented himself at her reception--an
innocent, unsophisticated youth. He knew nothing about the mystery of
the cake; accordingly, when it appeared, and when all the rest ran away,
when Madame Anserre took from the manservant's hands the dish and the
pastry, he remained quietly by her side.