"Only by ear. I do not know a note of music."
"Play me something. Will you? But I suppose the piano is out of tune, for nobody ever uses it since we stopped dancing."
Lamberti touched the keys, standing, and struck a few soft chords.
"No," he said. "It is not badly out of tune. But if I play, it will be the end of our acquaintance."
"Perhaps it may be the beginning," Cecilia answered, and their eyes met for a moment.
"If it amuses you, I will try," said Lamberti, looking away, and sitting down before the keys. "You must be easily pleased if you can listen to me," he added, laughing, as he struck a few chords again.
Cecilia sat down in a low chair between him and the window, at the left of the key-board. Her mother glanced at Lamberti with a little surprise, and then went on talking with Guido.
Lamberti began to play a favourite waltz, not loud, but with a good deal of spirit and a perfect sense of time. Cecilia had often danced to the tune in the spring, and liked it. He broke off suddenly, and made slow chords again.
"Have you forgotten the rest?" Cecilia asked.
"No. I was thinking of something else. Did you ever hear this?"