He reappeared looking calm and magisterial. The applause
continued, and he had to go back and bow his thanks. The tenor, who had
not been recalled, looked cross and made a movement of his double chin
that suggested bridling.
"Now, Miss Schley!" said the pianist. "You come now!"
"Lady Holme has very kindly consented to go first," she replied.
Then she turned to the French actor and, in atrocious but very
self-possessed French, began to congratulate him on his performance.
"Oh, well--" the pianist hurried up to Lady Holme. "You have really--very
well then--these are the songs! Which do you sing first? Very hot, isn't
it?"
He wiped his long fingers with a silk pocket-handkerchief and took the
music she offered to him.
"The Princesses seem very pleased," he added. "Marteau--charming
composer, yes--very pleased indeed. Which one? '/C'est toi/'? Certainly,
certainly."
He wiped his hands again and held out one to lead Lady Holme to the
platform. But she ignored it gently and went on alone. He followed,
carrying the music and perspiring. As they disappeared Miss Schley got up
and moved to a chair close by the screen that hid the platform. She
beckoned to Leo Ulford and he followed her.
As Lady Holme stepped on to the low platform, edged with a bank of
flowers, it seemed to her as if with one glance she saw everyone in the
crowded room, and felt at least something swiftly of each one's feeling.
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