replied Madame Foa. "She would if she could."

"I should so like to have seen her again," said Audrey eagerly. She was so
relieved at Madame Piriac's not coming that she felt she could afford to be
eager.

And Monsieur Foa, a little distance off, threw a sign into the duologue,
and called:

"You permit me? Your dress ... _Exquise! Exquise!_ And these pigs of French
persist in saying that the English lack taste!" He clapped his hand to his
forehead in despair of the French.

Then the clanging sound supervened, and the little fox-terrier yapped, and
Monsieur Foa went out, ejaculating "Ah!" and Madame Foa went into the
doorway. Audrey glanced round for Musa, but he was out of sight in the
dining-room. Several people turned at once and spoke to her, including two
composers who had probably composed more impossibilities for amateur
pianists than any other two men who ever lived, and a musical critic with
large dark eyes and an Eastern air, who had come from the Opera very
sarcastic about the Opera. One of the composers asked the critic whether he
had not heard Musa play.

"Yes," said the critic. "I heard him in the Ternes Quarter--somewhere. He
plays very agreeably. Madame," he addressed Audrey. "I was discussing with
these gentlemen whether it be not possible to define the principle of
beauty in music. Once it is defined, my trade will be much simplified, you
see. What say you?"

How could she discourse on the principle of beauty in music when she had
the whole weight of the evening on her shoulders? Musa was the whole weight
of the evening. Would he succeed? She was his mother, his manager, his
creator. He was her handiwork. If he failed she would have failed. That was
her sole interest in him, but it was an overwhelming interest. When would
he be asked to play? Useless for them to flatter her about her dress, to
treat her like a rarity, if they offered callous, careless, off-hand
remarks, such as "He plays very agreeably."

She stammered:

"I--I only know what I like."

One of the composers jumped up excitedly:

"_Voila_ Madame has said the final word. You hear me, the final word, the
most profound. Argue as you will, perfect the art of criticism to no matter
what point, and you will never get beyond the final word of Madame."

The critic shrugged his shoulders, and with a smile bowed to the ravishing
utterer of last words on the most baffling of subjects. This fluttered
person soon perceived that she had bee