Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/349

and we went and took rooms in another house, into which we moved the same evening.”

“And,” asked Mimi, “what did he do on leaving the room we had occupied, what did he say on abandoning the room in which he had loved me so?”

“He packed up his things quietly,” replied Marcel, “and as he found in a drawer a pair of thread gloves you had forgotten, as well as two or three of your letters———”

“I know,” said Mimi, in a tone which seemed to imply, “I forgot them on purpose, so that he might have some souvenir of me left! What did he do with them?” she added.

“If I remember rightly,” said Marcel, “he threw the letters into the fireplace, and the gloves out of the window, but without any theatrical effort, and quite naturally, as one does when one wants to get rid of something useless.”

“My dear Monsieur Marcel, I assure you that from the bottom of my heart I hope that this indifference may last. But, once more, in all sincerity, I do not believe in such a speedy cure; and, in spite of all you tell me, I am convinced that my poet’s heart is broken.”

“That may be,” replied Marcel, taking leave of Mimi, “but unless I am very much mistaken the pieces are still good for something.”

During this colloquy in a public thoroughfare, Vicomte Paul was awaiting his new mistress, who was behindhand in her appointment, and decidedly disagreeable towards him. He seated himself at her feet and warbled his favorite strain, namely, that she was charming, fair as a lily, gentle as a lamb, but that he loved her above all on account of the beauties of her soul.

“Ah,” thought Mimi, loosening the waves of her dark hair over her snowy shoulders, “my lover, Rodolphe, was not so exclusive.”