Some
even tried to secure a bit of the gold embroidery from off her gown by
way of memento.
"Oh, please . . . please . . ."
A crowd that is overwrought, either by anger or enthusiasm, is a
difficult thing to handle, and Diana retreated desperately, frightened
by the storm she had evoked. One man was kneeling beside her,
rapturously kissing the hem of her gown, and the eager, excited faces,
the outstretched hands, the vision of the surging throng below, and the
tumult and clamour that filled the concert-hall terrified her.
Suddenly a strong arm intervened between her and the group of
enthusiasts who were flocking round her, and she found that she was
being quietly drawn aside into safety. Max Errington's tall form had
interposed itself between her and her too eager worshippers. With a
little gasp of relief she let him lead her down the steps of the
platform and back into the comparative calm of the artistes' room,
while two of the ushers hurried forward and dispersed the
memento-seekers, shepherding them back into the hall below, so that the
concert might continue.
The latter part of the programme was heard with attention, but not even
the final _duo_ for violin and piano, exquisite though it was,
succeeded in rousing the audience to a normal pitch of fervour again.
Emotion and enthusiasm were alike exhausted, and now that Diana's share
in the recital was over, the big assemblage of people listened to the
remaining numbers much as a child, tired with play, may listen to a
lullaby--placidly appreciative, but without overwhelming excitement.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180