Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/329

who had already dealt several times; “king, and ace. I am done for,” continued he, dealing the cards; “I am done for, all the kings are out.”

“No politics,” said a journalist.

“And the ace is the foe of my family,” continued the banker, who then turned up another king. “Long live the king! My dear Sidonie, hand me over two louis.”

“Put them down,” said Sidonie, vexed at her loss.

“That makes four hundred francs you owe me, little one,” said the banker; “you would run it up to a thousand. I pass the deal.”

Sidonie and Musette were chatting together in a low tone. The game went on.

At about the same time the Bohemians were sitting down to table. During the whole of the repast Marcel seemed uneasy. Every time a step sounded on the stairs he started.

“What is the matter?” asked Rodolphe of him; “one would think you were expecting some one. Are we not all here?”

But at a look from the artist the poet understood his friend’s pre-occupation.

“True,” he thought, “we are not all here.”

Marcel’s look meant Musette, Rodolphe’s answering glance, Mimi.

“We lack ladies,” said Schaunard, all at once.

“Confound it,” yelled Colline; “will you hold your tongue with your libertine reflections. It was agreed that we should not speak of love, it turns the sauces.”

And the friends continued to drink fuller bumpers, whilst without the snow still fell, and on the hearth the logs flamed brightly, scattering sparks like fireworks.

Just as Rodolphe was thundering out a song which he had found at the bottom of his glass, there came several knocks at the door. Marcel, torpid from incipient drunk-