tial manner, and
said:

"Do excuse me. But I MUST ask you if it was you we heard playing the
flute so perfectly wonderfully, just before dinner."

The voice was confidential and ingratiating. Aaron, relieved from the
world's stress and seeing life anew in the rosy glow of half a litre of
good old Chianti--the war was so near but gone by--looked up at the dark
blue, ingenuous, well-adapted eyes of our friend Francis, and smiling,
said:

"Yes, I saw you on the balcony as well."

"Oh, did you notice us?" plunged Francis. "But wasn't it an
extraordinary affair?"

"Very," said Aaron. "I couldn't make it out, could you?"

"Oh," cried Francis. "I never try. It's all much too new and complicated
for me.--But perhaps you know Italy?"

"No, I don't," said Aaron.

"Neither do we. And we feel rather stunned. We had only just
arrived--and then--Oh!" Francis put up his hand to his comely brow and
rolled his eyes. "I feel perfectly overwhelmed with it still."

He here allowed himself to sink friendlily into the vacant chair
opposite Aaron's.

"Yes, I thought it was a bit exciting," said Aaron. "I wonder what will
become of him--"

"--Of the one who climbed for the flag, you mean? No!--But wasn't it
perfectly marvellous! Oh, incredible, quite incredible!--And then your
flute to finish it all! Oh! I felt it only wanted that.--I haven't got
over it yet. But your playing was MARVELLOUS, really marvellous. Do you
know, I can't forget it. You are a professional musician, of course."

"If you mean I play for a living," said Aaron. "I have played in
orchestras in London."

"Of course! Of course! I knew you must be a professional. But don't you
give private recitals, too?"

"No, I never have."

"Oh!" cried Francis, catching his breath. "I can't believe it. But you
play MARVELLOUSLY! Oh, I just loved it, it simply swept me away, after
that scene in the street. It seemed to sum it all up, you know."

"Did it," said Aaron, rather grimly.

"But won't you come and have coffee with us at our table?" said Francis.
"We should like it most awfully if you would."

"Yes, thank you," said Aaron, half-rising.

"But you haven't had your dessert," said Francis, laying a fatherly
detaining hand on the arm of the other man. Aaron looked at the
detaining hand.

"The dessert isn't much to stop for," he said. "I can take with me what
I want." And he picked out a handful of dried figs.

The two went across to Angus' table.

"We're go