The other
numbers on the programme had been chosen to please the patrons of a
restaurant, this one, La Lettre d'Amour, was included in the list for
his own satisfaction. He had put it there to please himself; to-night
he would play it to please her--to this unknown girl who had so
suddenly awakened and inspired him.
As he waited for this chance to come he watched her, noting her every
movement, her troubled smile, her air of being apart and above her
surroundings. He noticed, too, the set face of the young man at her
side and, with the discernment of one whose own interest is captive,
saw the half-concealed longing in his eyes. He felt a quick antipathy
to this young man. His assured position at the girl's side
accentuated how far he himself was removed from her; he resented also
the manner of the young man to the waiters, and he wondered hotly if,
in the mind of this favored youth, the musician who played for his
entertainment was regarded any more highly than the servant who
received his orders. To this feeling of resentment was added one of
contempt. For, as he read the tableau at the table below him, the
young man was the devotee of the young girl at his side, and if one
could judge from her averted eyes, from her silent assent to his
questions, from the fact that she withdrew from the talk between him
and the older woman, his devotion was not welcome.
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