I was angry with myself for dropping my fan and scent-bottle; the lady picked up the bottle and the officer the fan.  The lady gave me back my bottle and, when the curtain fell, began talking to me.

She had turned round once or twice during the scene to look at me.  I found her most intelligent; she knew England and had heard Rubinstein and Joachim play at the Monday Pops.  She had been to the Tower of London, Madame Tussaud’s and Lord’s.

The officer kept my fan in his hands and, instead of going out in the entr’acte, stayed and listened to our conversation.  When the curtain went up and the people returned to their seats, he still held my fan.  In the next interval the lady and the girls went out and my left-hand neighbour opened conversation with me.  He said in perfect English: 

“Are you really as fond of this music as you appear to be?”

To which I replied: 

“You imply I am humbugging!  I never pretend anything; why should you think I do?  I don’t lean back perspiring or cover my face with a handkerchief as your compatriots are doing, it is true, but...”

He (interrupting):  “I am very glad of that!  Do you think you would recognise a motif if I wrote one for you?”

Feeling rather nettled, I said: 

“You must think me a perfect gowk if you suppose I should not recognise any motif in any opera of Wagner!”

I said this with a commanding gesture, but I was far from confident that he would not catch me out.  He opened his cigarette-case, took out a visiting card and wrote the Schlummermotif on the back before giving it to me.  After telling him what the motif was, I looked at his very long name on the back of the card:  Graf von—­ .

Seeing me do this, he said with a slight twinkle: 

“Won’t you write me a motif now?”

Margot:  “Alas!  I can’t write music and to save my life could not do what you have done; are you a composer?”

Graf von—­:  “I shan’t tell you what I am—­especially as I have given you my name—­till you tell me who you are.”

Margot:  “I’m a young lady at large!”

At this, Frau von Mach nudged me; I thought she wanted to be introduced, so I looked at his name and said seriously: 

“Graf von—­, this is my friend Frau von Mach.”

He instantly stood up, bent his head and, clicking his heels, said to her: 

“Will you please introduce me to this young lady?”

Frau von Mach (with a smile):  “Certainly.  Miss Margot Tennant.”

Graf von—­:  “I hope, mademoiselle, you will forgive me thinking your interest in Wagner might not be as great as it appeared, but it enabled me to introduce myself to you.”

Margot:  “Don’t apologise, you have done me a good turn, for I shall lie back and cover my face with a handkerchief all through this next act to convince you.”