at it was he who sent me away. He trampled
on my self-esteem; he told me that he no longer loved me; that I must
get another lover. He even went so far as to indicate a young man who
was courting me, and by his taunts, he served to bring me and this
young man together. I went with him as much out of spite as from
necessity, for I did not love him. You know very well yourself that I do
not care for such very young fellows. They are as wearisome and
sentimental as harmonicas. Well, what is done is done. I do not regret
it, and I would do the same over again. Now that he no longer has me
with him, and knows me to be happy with another, Rodolphe is furious and
very unhappy. I know someone who met him the other day; his eyes were
quite red. That does not astonish me. I felt quite sure it would come to
this, and that he would run after me, but you can tell him that he will
only lose his time, and that this time it is quite in earnest and for
good. Is it long since you saw him, Marcel and is it true that he is
much altered?" inquired Mimi in quite another tone.

"He is greatly altered indeed," replied Marcel.

"He is grieving, that is certain, but what am I to do? So much the worse
for him, he would have it so. It had to come to an end somehow. Try to
console him."

"Oh!" answered Marcel quickly. "The worst of the job is over. Do not
disturb yourself about it, Mimi."

"You are not telling the truth, my dear fellow," said Mimi, with an
ironical little pout. "Rodolphe will not be so quickly consoled as all
that. If you knew what a state he was in the night before I left. It was
a Friday, I would not stay that night at my new lover's because I am
superstitious, and Friday is an unlucky day."

"You are wrong, Mimi, in love affairs Friday is a lucky day; the
ancients called it Dies Veneris."

"I do not know Latin," said Mademoiselle Mimi, continuing her narration.
"I was coming back then from Paul's and found Rodolphe waiting for me in
the street. It was late, past midnight, and I was hungry for I had had
no dinner. I asked Rodolphe to go and get something for supper. He came
back half an hour later, he had run about a great deal to get nothing
worth speaking of, some bread, wine, sardines, cheese, and an apple
tart. I had gone to bed during his absence, and he laid the table beside
the bed. I pretended not to notice him, but I could see him plainly, he
was pale as death. He shuddered and walked about the room like a man who