"Please lean on the piano." He did so, inquiringly.
"Otherwise," she said, "you'd have attempted to seat yourself on this bench; and there isn't room for both of us without crowding."
"If you moved a little——"
"But I won't," she said serenely, and dropped her slim hands on the key-board.
She sang one or two modern songs, and he took second part in a pleasant, careless, but acceptable barytone.
"The old ones are the best," she commented, running lightly through a medley ranging from "The Mikado" to "Erminie," the "Black Hussar," and "The Mascotte." They sang the "gobble duet" from the latter fairly well:
"'The old ones are best.' she commented."
She.
"When on your manly form I gaze
A sense of pleasure passes o'er me";
He.
"The murmured music of your voice
Is sweeter far than liquid honey!"