"And you love Puccini because he gives you the opportunity to shout stupid arias."
Some customers interrupted the dispute.
During the next few hours Salvatore thought how to evade a disaster with the father of Rosita. He loved the girl; yesterday's kisses were still on his lips. Yet he could not, on account of that, change his musical opinions! The idea of the old wire plucker! Let him stick to his Rossini and Donizetti as much as he wants to, but not impose such ideas on him, on Salvatore Gonfarone, who knew more about music than a hundred Romanos!
It was a hard battle between love and artistic ideals.
Silvio Romano was terribly incensed. Several times he made up his mind to tell the youth they had reached the parting point. To dare sneer at Rossini! Rossini, the greatest master of them all—the god of music! let alone Donizetti—it was nothing less than sacrilege.
After those thoughts had had their sway, more practical ones presented themselves. Romano thought of the difficulty to find another man. Salvatore was such a good barber!
A hard battle between business and artistic ideals, indeed!
There was no music that evening, because there was no harmony between the two.
The banker and the other "notabili" came, in vain.
Salvatore took his hat and cane, and saying very politely, "Buona sera," he left the shop.