as well.

The scene built itself up with inconceivable rapidity. And while he was
still absorbed by it, Schwarz raised a decisive hand. It was the signal
to begin; he obeyed unthinkingly; and was at the bottom of the first
page before he knew it.

Throughout the whole of the opening movement, he was not rightly awake
to what he was doing. His fingers, like well-drilled soldiers, went
automatically through their work, neither blundering nor forgetting;
but the mind which should have controlled them was unable to
concentrate itself: he heard himself play as though he were listening
to some one else. He was only roused by the burst of applause that
succeeded the final chords. As he struck the first notes of the ANDANTE
WITH VARIATIONS, he nerved himself for an effort; but now, as if it
were the result of his previous inattention, an odd uneasiness beset
him; and his beginning to weigh each note as he played it, his fingers
hesitated and grew less sure. Having failed, through over-care, in the
rounding of a turn, he resolved to let things go as they would, and his
thoughts wander at will. The movements of the trio succeeded one
another; the VARIATIONS ceased, and were followed by the crisp gaiety
of the MINUET. The lights above his head were reflected in the shining
ebony of the piano; regularly, every moment or two, he was struck by
the appearance of Schwarz's broad, fat hand, which crossed his range of
vision to turn a leaf; he meditated absently on a sharp uplifting of
this hand that occurred, as though the master were dissatisfied with
the rhythm--the 'cellist's fault, no doubt: he had been inexact at
rehearsal, and, this evening, was too much taken up with his own
witticisms beforehand, to think about what he had to do. And thus the
four divisions of the trio slipped past, separated by a disturbing
noise of hands, which continued to seem as unreal to Maurice as
everything else. Only as the last notes of the PRESTISSIMO died away,
in the disappointing, ineffectual scales in C major, with which the
trio closed--not till then did he grasp that the event to which he had
looked forward for many weeks was behind him, and also that no one
present knew less of how it had passed off than he himself.

With his music in his hand, he turned to Schwarz, to learn what success
he had had, from the master's face. According to custom, Schwarz shook
hands with him; he also nodded, but he did not smile. He was, however,
in a hurry; th