"Oh, yes! That one about—
"'Kiss me, dear love, good-night.'
"I was going upstairs but it made me stop just here—and cry."
He made his comic grimace.
"So it was you Beethoven was barking at! And I thought he had an ear! And I thought you had an ear! But no! You're both Philistines after all. Heigho!"
She looked sad. "Oughtn't I to ha' liked it?" she asked anxiously.
"Oh, yes," he said reassuringly; "it's very popular. No drawing-room is without it."
She detected the ironic ring in his voice. "It wasn't so much the music," she began apologetically.
"Now—now you're going to spoil yourself," he said. "Be natural."
"But it wasn't," she protested. "It was the words—"