melancholy music.

The boldest of them, however, went up to the piano.

"You are playing from the Freischutz, aren't you?" she asked.

"No," said Theodore, politely, "I'm playing Gounod's _Faust_."

"Your brother looks frightfully respectable," said the little dark
one, whose name was Rieke; "he's different to you, you old villain."

"Oh! well, he's going into the Church," whispered the lieutenant.

These words made a great impression on the girls, and henceforth they
only kissed the lieutenant when Theodore's back was turned, and looked
at Theodore shyly and apprehensively, like fowls at a chained mastiff.

Supper appeared, a great number of courses. There were eighteen dishes,
not counting the hot ones.

Gustav poured out the liqueurs.

"Your health, you old hypocrite!" he laughed.

Theodore swallowed the liqueur. A delicious warmth ran through his
limbs, a thin, warm veil fell over his eyes, he felt ravenous like a
starving beast. What a banquet it was! The fresh salmon with its
peculiar flavour, and the dill with its narcotic aroma; the radishes
which seem to scrape the throat and call for beer; the small
beef-steaks and sweet Portuguese onions, which made him think of