"Oh, come, don't mix music up with that."
"But that is music! A beautiful chord is a kiss."
"I never told you that."
"But isn't it true?… Why do you shrug your shoulders and make faces?"
"Because it annoys me."
"So much the better."
"It annoys me to hear music spoken of as though it were a sort of indulgence…. Oh, it isn't your fault. It's the fault of the world you live in. The stale society in which you live regards music as a sort of legitimate vice…. Come, sit down! Play me your sonata."
"No. Let us talk a little longer."
"I'm not here to talk. I'm here to teach you the piano…. Come, play away!"
"You're so rude!" said Colette, rather vexed—but at heart delighted to be handled so roughly.