Perth Amboy evening news., 1921-06-21
I Have n Shock
81

The little man had an enormous
head. sizes too large for his thin,
almost emaciated body. And the
size OF the head was increased by
the bushy red hair hat covered it
hair brushed sleekly into place. but
that, by its very thickness, seemed
TO stand out all over the head.
He sat on a low stool, his rather
long arms clasped around his knees.
lie was watching me. he had been
watching for some time. l wanted
him to come over and talk to me,
but he never moved. Sometimes he
turned "a chat with an elderly man
beside him.
The musician. n Mr.. Nardonski.
continued 10 be devoted to me.
you are musical, of course? p he
why the of course'?" I coun-
tered.
lie had a little way OF lifting his
shoulders now and then as he talked.
You have temperament he n
swcred. you have a sweet voice
when speaking. so much sweeter
than the voices OF those one meets
over here
Il am no musician. one is al
ways taught to play and sing a
little"
"Then play a little for me-. sing
something to me-"
I glanced around the room. He
caught the look. guessed / did not
want TO before so many people. and
suggested
"The little music room will do"
Some of the people had left, the
patrons of the orchestra had already
gone. Gwen was standing by the
door. saying goodbye. Win had
moved TO a big chair by the fireplace.
The little man had disappeared.
Mr.. Nardonski made some excuse
about trying my voice and we went
across the hall TO the music room.
1t was a wonderful little room, "A
little gem designed by one of our
best artists. The walls had been
painted with scenes from some
strange dream forest, where fawns
and curious animals played and
where long vistas through the trees
made the tiny o seem large as
outdoors itself. In II corner the
grand piano stood. Around were
some chairs and couches to lounge
on, all the light was centered on the
instrument, and then diffused to
throw a pale illumination on the
1t was a room to play in. TO create
music. to feel its beauty.
painted dream forest.
Mr.. Nardonski sat down, running
his fingers over the keys of the
piano. | sang some simpler things
for him. He pretended he thought
my voice very good. l took his
compliments, / did not care what he
Thought was all part of my game.
Then | played a Chopin prelude. "A
bit l remembered from a Tchaikov-
sky symphony, the Love and Death"
music from Tristan.
"Ah, there is passion there. in
those slim white fingers!" he said,
| leaning nearer to me over the piano.
| said nothing. l kept my eyes on
the keys. l was quite sure he was
going to be sentimental. and / want
ed only enough interest to bring
him to see me again. l did not want
a scene here.
I broke off before the climax of
the music, which was beyond my
skill to dc properly and began some
thing of Scriabine's, Transporting and
J changing and simplifying, since
had only heard the orchestral score.
1.-THE Poeme de rExtase," he
cried. "Ah, but you are doing ii
very well indeed"
There was no music before me,
only the polished ebony of the piano,
which acted like a mirror. / could
see the doorway behind me, l saw
G~wendolyn enter and stand there.
Winthrop beside her. The little
man was with them. 1 pretended
not to know. and put everything
had of skill and feeling into the
music. 1 had never played as well.
THE Poem of Ecstacy." l heard
Gwen murmur. in answer to a ques-
ton from Win. How beautifully
she does it,"
They stood a moment, listening,
while 1 played. Win had never
heard me play. He knew little and
cared nothing about music. He was
listening eagerly now. so much