“If old Peter wouldn't be fussed. He might think—”
“Peter always wants every one to be happy. So if you really care—”
“And I'll not bore you?”
“Rather not!”
“How—about what time?”
“In the afternoon would be pleasant, I think. And then Jimmy can listen. He loves music.”
McLean, having found his fur-lined coat, got into it as slowly as possible. Then he missed a glove, and it must be searched for in all the dark corners of the salon until found in his pocket. Even then he hesitated, lingered, loath to break up this little world of two.
“You play wonderfully,” he said.
“So do you.”
“If only something comes of it! It's curious, isn't it, when you think of it? You and I meeting here in the center of Europe and both of us working our heads off for something that may never pan out.”