The first to make his appearance on the platform was a flute-player of consumptive aspect, who spat out ... that is to say, piped out a piece which was consumptive like himself. Two persons shouted "Bravo!" Then a fat gentleman in spectacles, very sedate and even grim of aspect, recited in a bass voice a sketch by Shtchedrin;[57] the audience applauded the sketch, not him.--Then the pianist, who was already known to Aratoff, presented himself, and pounded out the same Liszt fantasia; the pianist was favoured with a recall. He bowed, with his hand resting on the back of a chair, and after each bow he tossed back his hair exactly like Liszt! At last, after a decidedly long intermission, the red cloth over the door at the rear of the platform moved, was drawn widely apart, and Clara Militch made her appearance. The hall rang with applause. With unsteady steps she approached the front of the platform, came to a halt, and stood motionless, with her large, red, ungloved hands crossed in front of her, making no curtsey, neither bending her head nor smiling. She was a girl of nineteen, tall, rather broad-shouldered, but well built. Her face was swarthy, partly Hebrew, partly Gipsy in type; her eyes were small and black beneath thick brows which almost met, her nose was straight, slightly up-turned, her lips were thin with a beautiful but sharp curve; she had a huge braid of black hair, which was heavy even to the eye, a low, impassive, stony brow, tiny ears ... her whole countenance was thoughtful, almost surly. A passionate, self-willed nature,--not likely to be either kindly or even intelligent,--but gifted, was manifested by everything about her. For a while she did not raise her eyes, but suddenly gave a start and sent her intent but not attentive glance, which seemed to be buried in herself, along the rows of spectators.