ly and
politely said made Audrey feel glad that she was a widow. Had she not been
a widow, possibly they would not have been uttered.

And when Madame Piriac and Audrey did rise to go, both host and hostess
began to upbraid. The host, indeed, barred the doorway with his urbane
figure. They were not kind, they were not true friends, to leave so soon.
The morrow had no sort of importance. The hour was scarcely one o'clock.
Other guests were expected.... Madame Piriac alone knew how to handle the
situation; she appealed privately to Madame Foa. Having appealed to Madame
Foa, she disappeared with Madame Foa, and could not be found when Audrey
and Miss Ingate were ready to leave. While these two waited in the
antechamber, Monsieur Foa said suddenly in a confidential tone to Audrey:

"He is charming, Musa, quite charming."

"Did you like his playing?" Audrey demanded boldly.

She could not understand why it should be necessary for a violinist to play
and to succeed at this house before he could capture Paris. She was
delighted excessively with the home, but positively it bore no resemblance
to what she had anticipated; nor did it seem to her to possess any of the
attributes of influence; for one of her basic ideas about the world was
that influential people must be dull and formal, moving about with
deliberation in sombrely magnificent interiors.

"Yes," said Monsieur Foa. "I like it. He plays admirably." And he spoke
sincerely. Audrey, however, was a little disappointed because Monsieur Foa
did not assert that Musa was the most marvellous genius he had ever
listened to.

"I am very, very content to have heard him," said Monsieur Foa.

"Do you think he will succeed in Paris?"

"Ah! Madame! There is the Press. There are the snobs.... In fine...."

"I suppose if he had money?" Audrey murmured.

"Ah! Madame! In Paris, if one has money, one has everything. Paris--it is
not London, where to succeed one must be truly successful. But he is a
player very highly accomplished. It is miraculous that he should have
played so long in a cafe--Dauphin told me the history."

Musa appeared, and after him Madame Piriac. More appeals, more reproaches,
more asseverations that friends who left so early as one o'clock in the
morning were not friends--and the host at length consented to open the
door. At that very instant the bell clanged. Another guest had arrived.

When, after the long descent of the stairs (which, however, unlike the