Lawrence was
firmly decided that, if any effort of hers could compass it, those
surroundings should continue to be No. 34 Brutton Square.
Diana herself looked tired but irrepressibly happy. Now that it was
all over, and success assured, she realised how intensely she had
dreaded the ordeal of this first recital.
Olga Lermontof, her injured hand resting in a sling, chaffed her with
some amusement.
"I suppose, at last, you're beginning to understand that your voice is
really something out of the ordinary," she said. "Its effect on the
audience this afternoon is a better criterion than all the notices in
to-morrow's newspapers put together."
Diana laughed.
"Well, I hope it won't make a habit of producing that effect!" she
said, pulling a little face of disgust at the recollection. "I don't
know what would have happened if Mr. Errington hadn't come to my
rescue."
Max smiled across at her.
"You'd have been torn to bits and the pieces distributed amongst the
audience--like souvenir programmes--I imagine," he replied. Then,
turning towards the accompanist, he continued: "How does your hand feel
now, Miss Lermontof?"
There was a curious change in his voice as he addressed the Russian,
and Diana, glancing quickly towards her, surprised a strangely wistful
look in her eyes as they rested upon Errington's face.
"Oh, it is much better. I shall be able to play again in a few days.
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