"Precisely," remarked Calabressa, in absolute good-humor. "But before
that a word."
He glanced round this assemblage of foreign-looking persons, no doubt
guessing at the various nationalities indicated by physique and
complexion--Prussian, Pole, Rhinelander, Swiss, and what not. If the
company, in English eyes, might have looked Bohemian--that is to say,
unconventional in manner and costume--the Bohemianism, at all events,
was of a well-to-do, cheerful, good-humored character. There was a good
deal of talking besides the music.
"These gentlemen," said Calabressa, in a low voice, "are they
friends--are they with us?"
"Only one or two," said Beratinsky.
"You do not come here to proselytize, then?"
"One must amuse one's self sometimes," said the little, fat,
black-haired Pole, somewhat gruffly.
"Then one must take care what one says!"
"I presume that is generally the case, friend Calabressa."
But Calabressa was not offended. He was interested in what was going on.
"Par exemple," he said, in his airy way, "que vient faire la le drole?"
The music had come to an end, and the spectacled professor had retired
amidst a thunder of applause.
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