“Ah, Gluck,” said Mr. Henderson, smoothing his long knees with outspread fingers.
“Have you got that Beethoven thing?” asked Sarah.
“Not here, Sally.”
“I saw it—on the piano—with chords,” said Sarah excitedly.
“Chords,” encouraged Miriam.
“Yes, I think so,” muttered Sarah taking up her crochet. “I daresay I’m wrong,” she giggled, throwing out a foot and hastily withdrawing it.
“I can find it, dear,” chanted the guest.
Miriam raised a flourishing hand. The crimsoned oval of Eve’s face appeared inverted above her own. She poked a finger into one of the dark eyes and looking at the screwed-up lid whispered voicelessly, “Make her play the Romance first and then the Cavatina without talking in between....”
Eve’s large soft mouth pursed a little, and Miriam watched steadily until dimples appeared. “Go on, Eve,” she said, removing her hand.
“Shall I play the Beethoven first?” enquired the guest.