Since the beginning of the conversation she had been strongly tempted to throw his cuckold's reputation in his teeth, but she had resisted.

She would have liked to confess him quietly on the subject, but he had begun to exasperate her at last.

The matter ought to stop now.
"Well, then, my dearie," she continued, "I don't know what you're getting at with me.

For two hours past you've been worrying my life out.
Now do just go and find your wife, for she's at it with Fauchery.

Yes, it's quite correct; they're in the Rue Taitbout, at the corner of the Rue de Provence.