“Oh—no—no, leave of absence, sergeant.”
“Ah, it seems you have leave of absence from your aunt.”
“Not for long, she’s coming here. Now the dancing is over, the word is ‘singing.’ Such slow singing, I want to dash my hands down on the keys to make just a little stir, you know. And she says I shall sing to-night before the company, but he is wrong. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.”
“Or-r-r-r-der.”
“I say I won’t—I won’t—I won’t! And I won’t marry the duke, and I won’t marry anybody but Tony.”
“Ah, Marie, how can you help yourself?”
“If I don’t help myself, I’m sure nobody else will, not even Sergeant Sulpice.”
“Hush!—here she comes—full dress parade.”
“And in stalked the marquise.”
“Thank the chances I have found it—this superb romance. Hem—hem!—’Tis a beautiful romance. Come, Marie—there you stand like a simpleton. Come to the piano this moment.”