“Now,” he began, “about that recital....”
“Yes?”
“Let me talk to you a bit.... Do you know anything about recitals? No, of course you don’t. Well, listen to me.... A recital ...”
§ 7
What he told her might be summarized thus:
“A recital is an expensive business. It means taking a risk. If it is a failure it is a big failure. If it is a success it opens up a vista of bigger successes. It is the barrier which every first-class virtuoso has to approach and surmount. There is no reason why you should not attempt to surmount it. Provided you are willing to undertake the financial risk. After all, though you will never be a first-class pianist, you may quite easily be a second, and a good many second-class people pass the barrier successfully.”
As a sort of running undercurrent to his remarks there was the implication:
“There is no knowing what the British public may do. I prophesy neither success nor failure. Even if you aren’t tip-top the public may insist on treating you as if you were, in which case you will no doubt have a difficulty in believing anybody who tells you you aren’t. If the fickle public makes an idol of you, I can’t help it. I can only assure you you don’t merit it. In fact, I wash my hands of all responsibility for your future.”
Practically what he said was:
“I will help you as far as I can. I will arrange your recital, get you a hall, have tickets, programmes and announcements printed, and secure you a tolerable press. All this I will do without in the least guaranteeing that your enterprise will be anything but a howling fiasco.”