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but there’s no cause to, I promise you that.’
She did her best to make people feel at home. She slapped
them on the shoulders and laughed a great deal.
‘Ain’t I a pickle?’ she cried, turning to Philip. ‘What must
you think of me? But I can’t ‘elp meself.’
Those who were going to take part in the social evening
came in, the younger members of the staff mostly, boys who
had not girls of their own, and girls who had not yet found
anyone to walk with. Several of the young gentlemen wore
lounge suits with white evening ties and red silk handker-
chiefs; they were going to perform, and they had a busy,
abstracted air; some were self-confident, but others were
nervous, and they watched their public with an anxious eye.
Presently a girl with a great deal of hair sat at the piano and
ran her hands noisily across the keyboard. When the audi-
ence had settled itself she looked round and gave the name
of her piece.
‘A Drive in Russia.’
There was a round of clapping during which she deftly
fixed bells to her wrists. She smiled a little and immediately
burst into energetic melody. There was a great deal more
clapping when she finished, and when this was over, as an
encore, she gave a piece which imitated the sea; there were
little trills to represent the lapping waves and thundering
chords, with the loud pedal down, to suggest a storm. After
this a gentleman sang a song called Bid me Good-bye, and
as an encore obliged with Sing me to Sleep. The audience
measured their enthusiasm with a nice discrimination. Ev-
eryone was applauded till he gave an encore, and so that