§ 3
One effect the sudden (but only temporary) shattering of her ambitions had upon her. It redoubled afterwards her efforts to achieve them. She increased the number of hours devoted to practice. She even made some attempt to get through an elementary book on harmony and counterpoint.
And strangely enough, of all the composers whose works she attempted none nerved her to such a fever of determination as Chopin. For she had been told she oughtn’t to play Chopin....
On the Wednesday following a card reached her, addressed to the Victoria Theatre. It simply said:
Come at two o’clock on Saturday.
R. VERREKER.
The writing was sharply angular, rivalling the phrasing in curtness. Nevertheless, Catherine had expected curtness. Of course she was not going to go. She had long ago decided that. As if to symbolize her contempt, she tore up the card and threw it into the gutter as she left the theatre. After all, what was the use of keeping it, since she was not going to go?
All through the remainder of the week she kept fortifying her determination not to go. And yet dimly, in some strange intuitive fashion, at the back of her mind she felt that it was quite possible she would go. I won’t go, she told herself one moment. Bet you you do go, after all.... She was surprised, almost fascinated by this charming waywardness of hers. Anyway, she decided, it’s quite a simple matter to settle: I won’t go. I wonder, she said to herself, smiling.
As a matter of fact she did not go. But it was from an absurdly accidental reason. She was strolling along the Ridgeway soon after lunch on Saturday when she suddenly reflected that she did not know what time he wished to see her. Was it two o’clock or three? She failed to remember, and of course the postcard had been thrown away. At two o’clock she felt she would not run the risk of being an hour too early. Something in her suggested half-past two as a compromise; but when the half-hour chimed she decided that since that would be wrong in any case she had better wait till three. And at three she felt sure that his card had said two, so she went back to Gifford Road. In a way she was pleased with herself. She had kept her word. She had not gone. The narrowness of her victory seemed to emphasize its magnitude.
At the theatre that evening an introductory film was shown. It dealt with the Napoleonic invasion of Russia. Something in Catherine impelled her to play “Poland is Lost.” ...