Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. ‘I try to be. " "Knock him on the head," thundered Sir Cecil, "or we shall have the watch upon us. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. This is a joke of yours. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. It is easy enough to sing these little chansons in an original way—it requires a very different sort of ability to succeed on the stage. It’s just upon my lunch-time.
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