Viola started as if he had hit her. But she said nothing this time.
Jimmy didn't see her. He was looking over his shoulder to see whether the butler was or was not answering his summons. And then—I think that at one period of his life he must have been a little proud of his accomplishment—he did it again. He did it crescendo, fortissimo, prestissimo, strabato and con molto expressione; he played on his knuckles with a virtuosity of which I have never seen the like.
The sheer technique of the performance ought to have disarmed her. (It enchanted Norah. But then Norah hadn't had an illness.) She flung a wild look round the room as if she called on treacherous heavenly powers to save her, then rose and very slowly, in silence and a matchless dignity, she walked out, past me, past Jimmy, past the returning butler, and down the passage and into the Tudor hall.
"Well—I am blowed," said Jevons.
Norah put her hand on his arm.
"You were wonderful, Jimmy dear," she said. "I could have listened to you for ever. So could Walter. But then, we haven't any nerves."
"After all," said Jimmy, "what did I do?"
I said, "You made a most infernal noise, old chap, you know."
"I say! Come—"
We had heard the andirons go down with a clatter.