"What shall we play—a Bach sonata? Ah, I remember this," she said, catching sight of the harpsichord part of a suite by J.P. Rameau, for the harpsichord and viola da gamba. "Where is the viola da gamba part?"
"In the bottom of that bookcase, I think; don't you remember it?"
"Well, it is some time since I've played it," she said, smiling, "but I'll try."
It seemed to her that she remembered it all wonderfully well, and she was surprised how every phrase came up correctly under her bow. But she stopped suddenly.
"I don't remember what comes next."
Mr. Innes played the phrase, she played it after him, but she broke down a little further on, and it took some time to find the music. "No, not in that shelf," cried Mr. Innes, "the next one; not that volume, the next."
"Ah, yes, I remember the volume, about the middle?" When she found the place she said, "Oh, yes, of course," and he answered—
"Ah, it seems simple enough now," and they went on together to the end.
"I've not lost much of my playing, have I?"
"A little stiffness, perhaps, and you've lost your sense of the old forms. Now let's play this rondeau of Marais."