(Other folk now pass through the toll-gate and move off in different directions. The bell of the Hospice Ste. Therese rings for matins.)
MAR. (coming out of the inn) Mimi!
MIMI. I hoped that I should find you here.
MAR. Aye, here we've been for a month:
So to pay for our footing,
Musetta teaches singing
To those who come here.
And I, well—I paint warriors—
There, on the house front!
MIMI. Where is Rudolph?
MAR. Here. 'Tis bitter, pray enter!
MIMI. (bursting into tears)
Enter I cannot, no!
MAR. Why not?
MIMI. Oh! good Marcel! oh! help me!