"Women and horses, it's all the same. Don't let us talk
about it. It drives me mad to think, I shan't be able to be near you.
I was some use to you there."
He jumped up and began to move about the room collecting the scattered
cigarettes.
"Shall I play to you, _mon ange_? I suppose the piano hasn't been
tuned yet." He struck a few notes, and made a rueful grimace. "It's
worse than ever."
"I'm afraid it never will be tuned now that I've been ill and caused so
much expense. Emile always says he will go without cigarettes to
afford it, and I say I will go without powder, but neither of us keep
our heroic resolutions, and the piano gets worse and worse."
Vardri shut down the lid with a bang.
"Well, anyway it doesn't matter," he said, "I don't want to play or do
anything; I just want to be with you."
"Bring up a chair, and sit and smoke, _mon camarade_." She held out
her hand with a gesture of invitation, and Vardri took it and kissed
it, and went back to his former position at her feet.
"Shall I read to you?" he asked. "Ah! I'd forgotten there was
something I wanted to tell you.
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