“And have you never felt that some notes remind you of some particular odour—for instance, opoponax or mignonette? The tones of an organ are like incense. When you sing that scena of Beethoven, ‘Ah, Perfido!’ I always smell the scent of verbena, especially in one of the concluding high passages. When you sing it again, I shall show you.”
Ange roared with laughter.
“But, Mr. Vere, how lovely to be perfumed like that!”
All joined in the laugh, and Vincent too seemed in a good humour.
“’Tis true, parole d’honneur.”
“No; but I tell you what, some people remind me of different animals,” whispered Etienne. “Henk, for instance, reminds me of a big dog, Betsy of a hen, Madame van der Stoor of a crab.”
They screamed with laughter. Otto, Emilie, and Léonie rose from their seats and approached nearer.
“What is all this about?” asked Emilie inquisitively.
“Madame van der Stoor is a crab!” yelled Ange, with tears in her eyes through laughing.
“And tell me, Eetje, of what do I remind you?” asked Léonie with glistening eyes.