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 not been so much velvet and silk in
the shops! I was very happy with him, he had the gift of making me feel;
and it is he who gave me the name of Musette on account of my songs. At
any rate, going to see him you may be sure that I shall return to you...
unless you shut your door in my face."

"You could not more frankly acknowledge that you do not love me," said
the young man.

"Come, my dear Maurice, you are too sensible a man for us to begin a
serious argument on that point," rejoined Musette. "You keep me like a
fine horse in your stable--and I like you because I love luxury, noise,
glitter, and festivity, and that sort of thing; do not let us go in for
sentiment, it would be useless and ridiculous."

"At least let me come with you."

"But you would not enjoy yourself at all," said Musette, "and would
hinder us from enjoying ourselves. Remember that he will necessarily
kiss me."

"Musette," said Maurice. "Have you often found such accommodating people