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But he did not know Louise well enough to foresee how she would act; and the nearer the time came, the stronger grew his presentiment of trouble. His chief remaining hope was that there would be no open speaking, that Schilsky's name would not be mentioned; and plump into the midst of this hope fell Ephie's question.
So far, drinking had brought him no pleasure; and he had sense enough to find the proximity of Ford disagreeable; for the latter spilt half the liquor he tried to swallow over himself, and half over his neighbour. A fresh imprecation of Schilsky's called forth more laughter. On its subsidence, Krafft awoke to his surroundings again.
And there were so many things to cry about: all the emotional excitement of the summer, with its ups and downs of hope and fear; the never-ceasing need of dissimulation; the gnawing uncertainty caused by Schilsky's silence; the growing sense of blankness and disappointment; Joan's suspicions; Maurice's discovery; the knowledge that Schilsky had gone away without a word to her; and, worst of all, and most inexplicable, the terrible visit of the afternoon at the remembrance of the madwoman she had escaped from, Ephie's tears flowed with renewed vigour.
And she played her part so well that Schilsky's attention was arrested; he remembered who she was, and stared hard at her as she passed. Not only this, but pleased, he could not have told why, he turned and followed her out, and standing on the steps, looked after her.
"You'll come, of course," said the latter to Maurice, as they left Schwarz's room after their lesson; and Madeleine said the same thing while driving home from the railway-station, where Maurice had met her. She was no more a friend of Schilsky's than he was, but she certainly intended to be present, to hear what kind of stuff he had turned out.
Other people grew attentive, and Dove went into a seventh heaven, which made it hard for him placidly to accept the fit of pettish silence, she subsequently fell into. The crowning touch was put to this disastrous evening by the fact that Schilsky's companion of the FOYER walked the greater part of the way home with them; and, what was worse, that she took not the slightest notice of Ephie.
They were followed by a couple of men known to Maurice by sight. One, an Italian, a stout, animated man, with prominent jet-black eyes and huge white teeth, was a fellow-pupil of Schilsky's, and a violinist of repute, notwithstanding the size and fleshiness of his hands, which were out of all proportion to the delicate build of his instrument. The other was a slender youth of fantastic appearance.
But it was impossible to let the evening pass as flatly as this; besides, as the general hilarity increased, it made those present less sensitive to the mood of the guest of honour. Furst was a born speaker, and his heart was full. So, presently, he rose to his feet, struck his glass, and, in spite of Schilsky's deepening scowl, held a flowery speech about his departing friend.
It seemed that one of the masters in the Conservatorium had expressed a very unequivocal opinion of Schilsky's talents as a composer, and Krafft was now sarcastic, now merry, at this critic's expense. Maurice laid down his knife, and, in the first break, asked abruptly: "When does he go?" "Go? who?" said Krafft indifferently, tickling Wotan's nose with a piece of skin which he held out of reach.
Schilsky's departure threatened, in a way he postponed for the present thinking out, to disturb his life; and, in an abrupt need of sympathy, he laid his hand on Krafft's knee. "Is it you, old man? What have you been doing with yourself?" Krafft gave him one of those looks which, in the early days of their acquaintance, had proved so disconcerting a look of struggling recollection.
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