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Others dropped in later, the rooms became well filled. The guests sought easy chairs, Paul taking special pains to see that Mrs. Cultus was comfortably settled. Mrs. Cultus in turn had made up her mind to hear Paul sing with the Doctor as accompanist. She had heard that they performed “stunts,” whatever they might prove to be, and now was her opportunity; also, she wished the stunts just as soon as possible. “Keep it up,” said Mrs. Cultus, sotto voce.

Of course Paul could not refuse point blank, but he must be permitted to do so in his own way, for none knew better than he and the Doctor that their music together was of such a peculiar nature that unless led up to judiciously the effect would be utterly ruined. In fact there was nothing in it but “the spirit of the thing,” and little technique whatever except to meet the demand of this spirit of the thing. They had never had either time or inclination to cultivate and keep technique-on-tap,—a thing to be turned on and off like a fountain before an admiring public. Nevertheless, the little they could do gave a deal of pleasure to those not already hypnotized by digital gymnastics, or become satiated from eating too much candy-music.