Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/323

“But, my dear, it is not becoming. You can go another time.”

“Ah! that is very good, another time. It is an old acquaintance, Marcel, who invites me to dinner, and that is sufficiently extraordinary for me to go and have a look at it. Another time! But real dinners in that house are as rare as eclipses.”

“What, you would break your pledge to us to go and see this individual,” said the young man, and you tell me so———”

“Whom do you want me to tell it to, then? To the Grand Turk? It does not concern him.”

“This is strange frankness.”

“You know very well that I do nothing like other people.”

“But what would you think of me if I let you go, knowing where you are going to? Think a bit, Musette, it is very unbecoming both to you and myself; you must ask this young fellow to excuse you———”

“My dear Monsieur Maurice,” said Mademoiselle Musette, in very firm tones, “you knew me before you took up with me, you knew that I was full of whims and fancies, and that no living soul can boast of ever having made me give one up.”

“Ask of me whatever you like,” said Maurice, “but this! There are fancies and fancies.”

“Maurice, I shall go and see Marcel. I am going,” she added, putting on her bonnet. You may leave me if you like, but it is stronger than I am; he is the best fellow in the world and the only one I have ever loved. If his head had been gold he would have melted it down to give me rings. Poor fellow,” said she, showing the letter, “see, as soon as he has a little fire, he invites me to come and warm myself. Ah! if he had not been so idle, and if there had