Do let me suffer from coals of fire, too." Michael gently edged Hermann away from the music-stool.

Much as he enjoyed his master's accompaniment he was perfectly sure that he preferred, if possible, to play for Sylvia himself than have the pleasure of listening to anybody else.
"And may I play for you, Miss Sylvia ?" he asked.
"Yes, will you?
Thanks, Lord Comber." Hermann moved away.
"And so Mr.Hermann sits down by Lady Barbara while Lord Comber plays for Miss Sylvia," he observed, with emphasis on the titles.
A sudden amazing boldness seized Michael.
"Sylvia, then," he said.
"All right, Michael," answered the girl, laughing.
She came and stood on the left of the piano, slightly behind him.
"And what are we going to have ?" asked Michael.
"It must be something we both know, for I've brought no music," said she.
Michael began playing the introduction to the Hugo Wolff song which he had accompanied for her one Sunday night at their house.

He knew it perfectly by heart, but stumbled a little over the difficult syncopated time.

This was not done without purpose, for the next moment he felt her hand on his shoulder marking it for him.
"Yes, that's right," she said.

"Now you've got it." And Michael smiled sweetly at his own amazing ingenuity.
Hermann put down the Variations, which he still had in his hand, when Sylvia's voice began.