“No, that’s by Schumann,” said Georgie, who was nettled by her tone, though he guessed what she was suffering.
Lucia knew he was right, but had to uphold her own unfortunate mistake.
“Schubert, I think,” she said. “Not that it matters. And so, as dear old Pepys said, and so to bed?”
Georgie was certainly enjoying himself.
“Oh no, we didn’t go to bed till terribly late,” he said. “But you would have hated to be there, for what we did next. We turned on the gramophone——”
Lucia gave a little wince. Her views about gramophones as being a profane parody of music, were well known.
“Yes, I should have run away then,” she said.
“We turned on the gramophone and danced!” said Georgie firmly.
This was the worst she had heard yet. Again she pictured what yesterday evening might have been. The idea of having popped in with her party after dinner, to hear Olga sing, and then dance impromptu with a prima-donna and a princess.... It was agonizing: it was intolerable.
She gave a dreadful little titter.