"Parblen! Chopin à la diable! Non, non, no more pour moi, s'il vous plait!"
"I can now die so vara happy! I hava justa once heard the maestro himself. I hava nothing left for to live."
"Who is this wonderful Remsen? Never heard of him before."
"You'll hear of him again, then. He's the only man living who can interpret the master."
It was, all of it, intolerable. How I hated these chattering idiots, who were making an idol of clay, setting up my poor Tom--who was to me at that moment an object of pity--as the incarnation of their cult, to whom they must pay reverent homage! I longed to cry aloud to them that they had been tricked, that my husband was a sensible, commonplace, lovable man, as far removed from a musical crank as he was from a train-robber or a pirate. All my former love for music seemed to have turned suddenly into detestation, and I longed to get away from this nest of Chopiniacs into the noisy, wholesome atmosphere of the outside world. It seemed to me that nothing could restore my equilibrium but the uproar of the streets and the unmelodious clatter of my coach.
"We must get out of this at once," I said to Mrs. Jack, standing erect and checking the dizziness in my head by an effort of will. I saw that Tom had fully recovered his senses and that he seemed to be actually enjoying the homage the excited throng pressing toward him offered to his vicarious genius. Beside him stood Molatti, her face radiant, as if her mission on earth were to reflect the glory of Tom Remsen's musical miracle.
"We must get out of this," I found myself saying again, as I urged Mrs. Jack toward the exit. "I'll send the carriage back for Tom."
"But it's such bad form to run away like this," protested Mrs. Jack. "What will the president think of us? And Dr. Woodruff! Surely you want to ask him what he thinks of the--ah--case."
But my will for the time being was stronger than hers, and presently we were seated in my carriage, homeward bound, and I was fighting back the hot tears that had rushed to my eyes.
"I--I--don't care what--what Dr. Woodruff thinks about the--the case," I sobbed. "I--I--know what I think about it."