"You were there--at my concert!" Jenny, standing a little back--for
they were all three crowded upon the tiny door-step--saw him glance up
at the speaker with something luminous shining through the darkness of
his face. "At my concert----! And you liked it? You liked it?"
"'Like' is scarcely the word."
"We feel that if you could be persuaded to give another concert," put
in the stout man, blandly, "and would allow----"
"I shall never play again--never--never!" cried Ben, harshly; but this
time the other went on imperturbably: "--allow us to make all
arrangements, take all responsibility: boom you; see to the advertising
and all that--we thought if we were to let practically all the seats
for the first concert go in complimentary tickets; get a few good names
on the committee--perhaps a princess or something of that sort as a
patroness--a strong claque"
"Of course, playing Beethoven--playing him as you played him the other
night. Grand-magnificent!" put in the first man realising the
weariness, the drop to blank indifference in the musician's face.
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