"And it has taken you three weeks to come?… Listen. Tell me frankly:
Did your mother prevent you?… Does she dislike your seeing me?"
"No. Not at all. She told me to come to-day."
"What?"
"The last time I saw you before the holidays I told her everything when I got home. She told me I had done right, and she asked about you, and pestered me with a great many questions. When we came home from Brittany, three weeks ago, she made me promise to go and see you again. A week ago she reminded me again. This morning, when she found that I had not been, she was angry with me, and wanted me to go directly after breakfast, without more ado."
"And aren't you ashamed to tell me that? Must you be forced to come and see me?"
"No. You mustn't think that…. Oh! I have annoyed you. Forgive me…. I am a muddle-headed idiot…. Scold me, but don't be angry with me. I love you. If I did not love you I should not have come. I was not forced to come. I can't be forced to do anything but what I want to do."
"You rascal!" said Christophe, laughing in spite of himself. "And your musical projects, what about them?"
"Oh! I am still thinking about it."
"That won't take you very far."
"I want to begin now. I couldn't begin these last few months. I have had so much to do! But now you shall see how I will work, if you still want to have anything to do with me…."