Delicate osculatory explosions and pretty exclamations in the hall!  The hostess was encountering an old friend.  There was also a man’s deep English voice.  Then a hush.  The man’s voice produced a very strange effect upon Audrey.  Roussel began to play.  Musa held his bow aloft.  Creeping steps in the doorway made Audrey look round.  A lady smiled and bowed to her.  It was Madame Piriac, resplendent and serene.

Musa played the Caprice.  Audrey did not hear him, partly because the vision of Madame Piriac, and the man’s deep voice, had extremely perturbed her, and partly because she was so desperately anxious for Musa’s triumph.  She had decided that she could make his triumph here the prelude to tremendous things.  When he had finished she held her breath....

The applause, after an instant, was sudden and extremely cordial.  Monsieur Foa loudly clapped, smiling at Audrey.  Roussel patted Musa on the back and chattered to him fondly.  On each side of her Audrey could catch murmured exclamations of delight.  Musa himself was certainly pleased and happy....  He had played at Foa’s, where it was absolutely essential to play if one intended to conquer Paris and to prove one’s pretensions; and he had found favour with this satiated and fastidious audience.

“Ouf!" sighed the musical critic Orientally lounging on a chair.  “Andre, has it occurred to you that we are expiring for want of air?”

A window was opened, and a shiver went through the assembly.

The clanging sounded again, but no dog, for the dog had been exterminated.

“Dauphin, my old pig!” Foa’s greeting from the entrance floated into the drawing-room, and then a very impressed:  “Mademoiselle” from Madame Foa.

“What?” cried Dauphin.  “Musa has played?  He played well?  So much the better.  What did I tell you?”

And he entered the drawing-room with the satisfied air of having fed Musa from infancy and also of having taught him all he knew about the violin.

Madame Foa followed him, and with her was Miss Ingate, gorgeous and blushing.  The whole company was now on its feet and moving about.  Miss Ingate scuttered to Audrey.

“Well,” she whispered.  “Here I am.  I came partly to satisfy that hysterical Elise, and Monsieur Dauphin met me on the stairs.  But really I came because I’ve had another letter from Miss Nickall.  She’s been and got her arm broken in a street row.  I knew those policemen would do it one day.  I always said they would.”

But Audrey seemed not to be listening.  With a side-long gaze she saw Madame Piriac talking with a middle-aged Englishman, whose back alone was visible to her.  Madame Piriac laughed and vanished out of sight into the dining-room.  The Englishman turned and met Audrey’s glance.

Abruptly leaving Miss Ingate, Audrey walked straight up to the Englishman.

“Good evening,” she said in a low voice.  “What is your name?”