Page:The Blind Bow-Boy (IA blindbowboy00vanv).pdf/82

 I have been told, it was always La prière d'une vierge.

He did not make a tentative attack on the keyboard, as is the bad habit of amateurs. Instead, he plunged at once into a conglomeration of harsh seconds. After a few raucous but brilliant wrestlings with the keys, he ceased.

What do you call it? Campaspe demanded.

Fourteenth Street. It's part of my Manhattan Suite.

Play Fifteenth Street, suggested Harold.

I haven't written all the streets, only twenty-five of them, and not consecutively.

Sheridan Square! was Paul's idea.

Certainly not. . . . I'll play you Sutton Place if you like.

Not that! cried Campaspe. We must have some reservations.

I'll play you Albéniz's Triana, said the intransigent musician, and he did play a few bars, but he broke off in the middle of one with the cry, J'en ai marre!

Play that!

J'en ai marre! J'en ai marre!

After a cocktail, Bunny was more complaisant.

I'll play Columbus Circle.

Childs' by moonlight?

The Maine Monument in the late afternoon?

The Columbus statue?