Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/248

“I have come to ask your hospitality,” said she; “Amélie’s lover has stayed with her, and I cannot get in.”

They talked together till three in the morning—an explanatory conversation which grew gradually more familiar.

At four o’clock their candle went out. Rodolphe wanted to light another.

“No,” said Mimi, “it is not worth the trouble. It is quite time to go to bed.”

Five minutes later her pretty brown curly head had once more resumed its place on the pillow, and in a voice full of affection she invited Rodolphe’s lips to feast on her little white hands with their blue veins, the pearly pallor of which vied with the whiteness of the sheets. Rodolphe did not light the candle.

In the morning Rodolphe got up first, and pointing out several packages to Mimi, said to her, very gently:

“There is what belongs to you; you can take it away. I keep my word.”

“Oh!” said Mimi, “I am very tired, you see, and I cannot carry all these heavy parcels away at once. I would rather call again.”

And when she was dressed she only took a collar and a pair of cuffs.

“I will take away the rest by degrees,” she added, smiling.

“Come,” said Rodolphe, “take away all or take away none, but let there be an end of it.”

“Let it, on the contrary, begin again, and, above all, let it last,” said Mimi, kissing Rodolphe.

After breakfasting together they started off for a day in the country. Crossing the Luxembourg gardens Rodolphe met a great poet who had always received him with charming kindness. Out of respect for the conventionalities Rodolphe was about to pretend not to see him; but the poet