"How's that?"
"It's like life, son, that piece. Laughing and making fun of—the way just as we think we got—we ain't got."
"Play that new piece, Leon, the one you set to music. You know. The words by that young boy in the war who wrote such grand poetry before he was killed. The one that always makes poor Mannie laugh. Play it for him, Leon."
Her plump little unlined face innocent of fault, Mrs. Isadore Kantor ventured her request, her smile tired with tears."
"No, no—Rosa—not now—ma wouldn't want that."
"I do, son; I do! Even Mannie should have his share of good-bye."
To Gina Berg: "They want me to play that little setting of mine of
Allan Seeger's poem, 'I have a rendezvous.'"
"It—it's beautiful, Leon! I was to have sung it on my program to-night—only, I'm afraid you had better not—"
"Please, Leon! Nothing you play can ever make me as sad as it makes me glad. Mannie should have too his good-bye."
"All right then, ma, if—if you're sure you want it. Will you sing it,
Gina?"