"That's to your credit," replied Hecht.
"If I am to be no musician in order to please you," said Christophe dryly,
"I am sorry, but I'm not that."
Hecht, still looking aside, went on, as indifferently as ever.
"You have written music? What have you written? Lieder, I suppose?"
"Lieder, two symphonies, symphonic poems, quartets, piano suites, theater music," said Christophe, boiling.
"People write a great deal in Germany," said Hecht, with scornful politeness.
It made him all the more suspicious of the newcomer to think that he had written so many works, and that he, Daniel Hecht, had not heard of them.
"Well," he said, "I might perhaps find work for you as you are recommended by my friend Hamilton. At present we are making a collection, a 'Library for Young People,' in which we are publishing some easy pianoforte pieces. Could you 'simplify' the Carnival of Schumann, and arrange it for six and eight hands?"
Christophe was staggered.
"And you offer that to me, to me—me…?"