"It isn't," said Sandy. "It's good stuff, Nan. Anyone would tell you so."
"Do you think so?" she replied, without enthusiasm.
He regarded her with an expression of anxiety.
"Oh, you mustn't drop the concerto," he protested. "That's always been your trick, Nan, to go so far and no further."
"It's a very good rule to follow—in some things," she replied enigmatically.
"Well, look here, will you hand the manuscript over to me and let me show it to someone?"
"No, I won't," she said with decision. "I hate the concerto now. It has—it has unpleasant associations. Let it rest in oblivion."
He shrugged his shoulders in despair.
"You're the most aggravating woman I know," he remarked irritably.
In an instant Nan was her own engaging self once more. It was instinctive with her to try and charm away an atmosphere of disapproval.