But it is all over now, and presently there will be some one else. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. ’ ‘I shall stop him,’ declared the old lady furiously. This is no place for me. But here’s what is different this time. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. ” “Such independence,” he answered quickly, “is a vice. “What would you like to hear? Some J. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. “There’s no end of things I’d like to talk over with you.
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