“Useless!” she cried. “Do you think making music is useless?”
“Of course it is. Lots of people get on without music. Fine, high-minded people, too.”
Andrée smiled scornfully.
“I dare say!” she said. “But there are some people who wouldn’t think life was worth living without art.”
“No, there aren’t. Not one. If you gave any human being his choice between a decent happy life without a sign of art, or death, no one but a maniac would choose death.”
“I should!”
“Then that’s because you don’t know anything about death, or life either.”
She shrugged her shoulders, and half turned away.
“You’d better not bother to talk to such a fool, then,” she said. “I’ll admit I can’t talk to people who despise music.”
“I don’t despise it. I’m very fond of it. I play a little myself. In fact, I think I’ve got quite a talent for it. If I could have studied, I’d have been a pretty good musician.”