I wonder if you will prefer them to the old." I was crossing the room towards Madame, and a silence made me pause and look towards the piano.

Lucille was addressing me--and no doubt I was clumsy enough to betray my surprise.
"I think I shall prefer the old ones, Mademoiselle," I answered.
She was fingering the pages carelessly, and Alphonse, who was always quick at such matters, stepped forward.
"As the songs are new the pages will require turning." "Thank you," answered Lucille, rather coldly as I thought, and Madame looked at me with a queer expression of impatience, as if I had done something amiss.

She took up her book and presently closed her eyes.
John Turner did the same, and I, remembering that he was a heavy breather, went up to him.
"I am ready to beat you at billiards," I said.
Lucille and Alphonse were so much engaged at the piano as to be apparently oblivious to our departure.

I suppose that they were grateful to us in their hearts for going.
My friend did not play long or skilfully, and I, like all ne'er-do-wells, played a fair game in those days.
"Yes," he said, when handsomely beaten, "you evidently play on Sundays.

Let us sit down and smoke." I could not help noticing that the music had ceased.