I will overtake him," replied Colline, putting on his hat,
the brim of which was so broad that tea for six people might have been
served upon it.

"Two," said Marcel to Rodolphe, "now you are free. I am off, and I will
tell the porter not to open the outer door if anyone knocks."

"Goodnight and thanks," said Rodolphe.

As he was showing his friend out Rodolphe heard on the staircase a
prolonged mew, to which his carroty cat replied by another, whilst
trying at the same time to slip out adroitly by the half-opened door.

"Poor Romeo!" said Rodolphe, "there is his Juliet calling him. Come, off
with you," he added opening the door to the enamored beast, who made a
single leap down the stairs into its lover's arms.

Left alone with his mistress, who standing before the glass was curling
her hair in a charmingly provocative attitude, Rodolphe approached Mimi
and passed his arms around her. Then, like a musician, who before
commencing a piece, strikes a series of notes to assure himself of the
capacity of the instrument, Rodolphe drew Mimi onto his knee, and
printed on her shoulder a long and sonorous kiss, which imparted a
sudden vibration to the frame of the youthful beauty.

The instrument was in tune.

CHAPTER XIV

MADEMOISELLE MIMI

Oh! my friend Rodolphe, what has happened to change you thus? Am I to
believe the rumors that are current, and that this misfortune has broken
down to such a degree your robust philosophy? How can I, the historian
in ordinary of your Bohemian epic, so full of joyous bursts of
laughter, narrate in a sufficiently melancholy tone the painful
adventure which casts a veil over your constant gaiety, and suddenly
checks the ringing flow of your paradoxes?

Oh! Rodolphe, my friend, I admit that the evil is serious, but there,
really it is not worthwhile throwing oneself into the water about it. So
I invite you to bury the past as soon as possible. Shun above all the
solitude peopled with phantoms who would help to render your regrets
eternal. Shun the silence where the echoes of recollection would still
be full of your past joys and sorrows. Cast boldly to all the winds of
forgetfulness the name you have so fondly cherished, and with it all
that still remains to you of her who bore it. Curls pressed by lips mad
with desire, a Venice flask in which there still lurks a remainder of
perfume, which at this moment it would be more dangerous for you to
breathe than all the poisons in t