A waiter came up now and took the order. After he went away they were silent. From the big lounging-room came the sound of a man more or less aimlessly fooling with the piano. After a while Peter broke the silence. He would have liked to know something about Pat's thoughts on this career which was being planned for him, and his attitude on the war and religion and women. "Are you in love with anybody and who is she and tell me about her?" Peter would have liked to ask a question like that, but he did not dare.
"What have you been doing with yourself?" was what he did ask.
"Mostly just hanging around to find out what Mr. Twice was deciding to do with me?" Pat answered.
Then there was more silence. The man in the next room was playing louder. "I wish, he'd either play that 'Invitation to the Waltz' or cut it out," said Pat.
So that was it. The "Invitation to the Waltz." It suggested to Peter that he bid boldly and offer close confidence in the hope that it would be met in kind.
"I wish he wouldn't play the 'Invitation to the Waltz' at all," he said. "That tune always tears me to bits."
He waited but Pat said nothing.
"I've never talked to you before about your mother. The first time I saw her she danced to that tune ... the 'Invitation to the Waltz.' She's a singer now but she was a dancer then. I don't suppose you even know her name."
"Yes," said Pat, "her name is Maria Algarez and she's singing now at the opera in Buenos Aires."
"How did you know that? I didn't even know myself that she was in Buenos Aires right now."