"You may leave me if you like, but it is stronger than I am; he is the best fellow in the world, and the only one I have ever loved.

If his head had been gold he would have melted it down to give me rings.

Poor fellow," said she, showing the letter, "see, as soon as he has a little fire, he invites me to come and warm myself.

Ah, if he had not been so idle, and if there had not been so much velvet and silk in the shops! I was very happy with him, he had the gift of making me feel; and it is he who gave me the name of Musette on account of my songs.

At any rate, going to see him you may be sure that I shall return to you...
unless you shut your door in my face." "You could not more frankly acknowledge that you do not love me," said the young man.
"Come, my dear Maurice, you are too sensible a man for us to begin a serious argument on that point," rejoined Musette.