"As if that were music or anything like it!"
"What! Not music!… What is it, then, if you please?"
"You know quite well: I won't tell you, because it would not be polite."
"All the more reason why you should say it."
"You want me to?… So much the worse for you!… Well, do you know what you are doing with your piano?… You are flirting with it."
"Indeed!"
"Certainly. You say to it: 'Dear piano, dear piano, say pretty things to me; kiss me; give me just one little kiss!'"
"You need not say any more," said Colette, half vexed, half laughing. "You haven't the least idea of respect."
"Not the least."
"You are impertinent…. And then, even if it were so, isn't that the right way to love music?"