Part 14

Oh!

ROSETTE.

It seems, monsieur, that you don't care much whether I kiss you or not.

Yes, I do.

ROSETTE.

How indifferently you say it!--All right; you can depend upon it that I won't touch you with the end of my lips for a week to come.--To-day is Tuesday: not till next Tuesday.

Nonsense!

ROSETTE.

What's that? nonsense?

Yes, nonsense! you'll kiss me before night, or I shall die.

ROSETTE.

You die! What a silly fellow!--I have spoiled you, monsieur.

I shall live.--I am not silly and you have not spoiled me--quite the contrary. In the first place I demand the instant suppression of monsieur; I know you well enough for you to call me by my name and speak in the language of intimates.

ROSETTE.

I have spoiled you, D'Albert.

Very good.--Now put your mouth over here.

ROSETTE.

No, next Tuesday.

Well, well! has it come to this, that we exchange caresses, calendar in hand? We are both a little too young for that.--Come, your mouth, my child, or I shall get a crick in my neck.

ROSETTE.

No.

Ah! you want me to force you, mignonne; pardieu! then I will force you. The thing is feasible, although perhaps it has never been done.

ROSETTE.

Impertinent!

Notice, my lovely one, that I was courteous enough to say perhaps; that was very good of me.--But we are getting away from the subject. Put down your head. Hoity-toity! what is all this, my favorite sultana? and what means the sulky expression on your face? It is a pleasure to kiss a smile and not a pout.

ROSETTE. (stooping to kiss me).

How do you expect me to laugh? you say such harsh things to me!

My purpose is to say very tender things to you. Why should I say harsh things?