What a hell of a wait! These rotten piano-thumping immigrants deserve a hard call-down. But what's the use? The piano manufacturers bring them over here to wallop their pianos--and the piano manufacturers are not afraid to advertise. If you knock them too hard you have a nasty business-office row on your hands. ONE OF THE MEN If they allowed smoking, it wouldn't be so bad. ANOTHER MAN I wonder if that woman across the aisle---- (THE GREAT PIANIST _bounces upon the stage so suddenly that he is bowing in the center before any one thinks to applaud. He makes three stiff bows. At the second the applause begins, swelling at once to a roar. He steps up to the piano, bows three times more, and then sits down. He hunches his shoulders, reaches for the pedals with his feet, spreads out his hands and waits for the clapper-clawing to cease. He is an undersized, paunchy East German, with hair the color of wet hay, and an extremely pallid complexion. Talcum powder hides the fact that his nose is shiny and somewhat pink. His eyebrows are carefully penciled and there are artificial shadows under his eyes. His face is absolutely expressionless._) THE VIRGIN Oh! THE MARRIED WOMEN Oh! THE OTHER WOMEN Oh! How dreadfully handsome! THE VIRGIN Oh, such eyes, such depth! How he must have suffered! I'd like to hear him play the Prelude in D flat major. It would drive you crazy! A HUNDRED OTHER WOMEN I certainly _do_ hope he plays some Schumann. OTHER WOMEN What beautiful hands! I could kiss them! (THE GREAT PIANIST, _throwing back his head, strikes the massive opening chords of a Beethoven sonata. There is a sudden hush and each note is heard clearly. The tempo of the first movement, which begins after a grand pause, is_ allegro con brio, _and the first subject is given out in a sparkling cascade of sound. But, despite the buoyancy of the music, there is an unmistakable undercurrent of melancholy in the playing. The audience doesn't fail to notice it._) THE VIRGIN Oh, perfect! I could love him! Paderewski played it like a fox trot. What poetry _he_ puts into it! I can see a soldier lover marching off to war. ONE OF THE CRITICS The ass is dragging it. Doesn't _con brio_ mean--well, what the devil _does_ it mean? I forget. I must look it up before I write the notice. Somehow, _brio_ suggests cheese. Anyhow, Pachmann plays it a damn sight faster. It's safe to say _that_, at all events. THE MARRIED WOMAN Oh, I could listen to that sonata all day! The poetry he puts into it--even into the _allegro_! Just think what the _andante_ will be! I like music to be sad. ANOTHER WOMAN What a sob he gets into it! MANY OTHER WOMEN How exquisite! THE GREAT PIANIST