"I am sure he will," said Mrs. Benson, looking at Herr Schlitz.
"Oh, yes, I blay for you if you vant," he said. "Vhere is your moosic?" They went over to the piano. "Oh, ho! Jensen, Lassen, Helmund, Grieg—you zing dem?"
"Some of them," said John. The pianist opened the Jensen album.
"You want to zing one of dese?" he asked.
"As well as anything," replied John, who had changed his mind a dozen times in the last ten minutes and was ready to accept any suggestion.
"Ver' goot," said the other. "Ve dry dis: Lehn deine wang' an meine Wang'." His face brightened as John began to sing the German words. In a measure or two the singer and player were in perfect accord, and as the former found his voice the ends of his fingers grew warm again. At the end of the song the applause was distributed about as after the Chopin waltz.
"Sehr schön!" exclaimed Herr Schlitz, looking up and nodding; "you must zing zome more," and he played the first bars of Marie, am Fenster sitzest du, humming the words under his breath, and quite oblivious of any one but himself and the singer.
"Zierlich," he said when the song was done, reaching for the collection of Lassen. "Mit deinen blauen Augen," he hummed, keeping time with his hands, but at this point Miss Clara came across the room, followed by her sister.
"Mrs. Tenaker," she said, laughing, "asked me to ask you, Mr. Lenox, if you wouldn't please sing something they could understand."
"I have a song I should like to hear you sing," said Miss Verjoos. "There is an obligato for violin and we have a violinist here. It is a beautiful song—Tosti's Beauty's Eyes. Do you know it?"