"And nothing is worth much; nothing is good," added Lucie.
"Madame," cried the Italian musician, "before continuing your invective, deign to hear me."
"Very willingly, monsieur."
"Will you then be seated? My companion and I are children of two parts of Italy which have not yet united with their common mother. We seek a little relaxation after a long servitude. Very well. We cannot take a step without being persecuted by politics, political economy, or philosophy. Have pity on us, and speak of other things."
"Spoiled child of Italy," said the Dane, "your prayer cannot be granted. Our age takes her nourishment where it is found. It is useless to try to hinder me."
"Cannot we discuss music?"
"Music! She has followed the general route, and the music of the future, with her prophet, Wagner, is political music."
"Granted. And the other arts?"
"They cannot be separated from philosophy and history."
"Then let us speak of frivolities, of the times, of the weather, of the city we are visiting; remember I am young, and an artist."