Page 301 - madame-bovary

ange, ma Lucie!*’ Then Leon, playing the dilettante, began
to talk music. He had seen Tambourini, Rubini, Persiani,
Grisi, and, compared with them, Lagardy, despite his grand
outbursts, was nowhere.
*Oh beautiful angel, my Lucie.
‘Yet,’ interrupted Charles, who was slowly sipping his
rum-sherbet, ‘they say that he is quite admirable in the last
act. I regret leaving before the end, because it was begin-
ning to amuse me.’
‘Why,’ said the clerk, ‘he will soon give another perfor-
mance.’
But Charles replied that they were going back next day.
‘Unless,’ he added, turning to his wife, ‘you would like to
stay alone, kitten?’
And changing his tactics at this unexpected opportunity
that presented itself to his hopes, the young man sang the
praises of Lagardy in the last number. It was really superb,
sublime. Then Charles insisted—
‘You would get back on Sunday. Come, make up your
mind. You are wrong if you feel that this is doing you the
least good.’
The tables round them, however, were emptying; a waiter
came and stood discreetly near them. Charles, who un-
derstood, took out his purse; the clerk held back his arm,
and did not forget to leave two more pieces of silver that he
made chink on the marble.
‘I am really sorry,’ said Bovary, ‘about the money which
you are—‘
The other made a careless gesture full of cordiality, and

00 Madame Bovary