When the encore was over, Rossini took me to the dining-room and made me sit near him, holding me by the hand so that I could not get away.

A procession of fawning admirers passed in front of him.

Ah! Master! What a masterpiece! Marvellous! And when the victim had exhausted the resources of the language in praise, Rossini replied, quietly: "I agree with you.

But the duet wasn't mine; it was written by this gentleman." Such kindness combined with such ingenuity tells more about the great man than many volumes of commentaries.

For Rossini was a great man.