“Surprised to see me?” he began, and from his tone she knew he was in an unusually good humour. “Yes. I thought you were at York.” “So I was till this morning. The child-genius is a fake.... I came down here to give a lecture on Economics ... five o’clock in the Arts School....” “So you’ll stay to hear me, then?” “As long as I can stand it.... I’ve heard the Kreutzer till I’m sick of it. Still, it suits a Cambridge audience.... What’ll you play if they ask for an encore?” “I don’t know ... Debussy, maybe.” “Not after the Kreutzer. Give them something sweet and sugary. The adagio out of the Sonata Pathétique, for instance.” The conversation developed on technical lines. Then the clock showed three. Catherine had to appear on the platform. Verreker disappeared by the back door and reappeared shortly in the stalls as a member of the audience. The greatest violinist in England commenced to tune up. The secretary of the University Musical Society placed Catherine’s music on the music rest, and prepared himself for the task of turning over the pages. Then the Kreutzer commenced. For over half an hour the performers worked hard, and then tumultuous applause indicated that Cambridge appreciated the sacrifice offered up at the altar of the academic muse. Beethoven had finally routed Debussy. Catherine’s solo was the _Rondo Capriccioso_. It was encored, and she played a simple minuet of Beethoven. Afterwards a Haydn Concerto was laboriously worked through, and by the conclusion of that the concert was over and the time a quarter to five. Verreker saw her at the back entrance. He was in a hurry and had only time to say: “See me at the ’Varsity Arms Hotel at seven to-night.” Then he snatched up a bundle of lecture notes and departed down Bene’t Street. § 8 In Downing Street that afternoon she met Buckland, one of the leading professors of Economics. They had met several times before at Verreker’s house at Upton Rising. After a few insignificant remarks Catherine said: “So you have asked Verreker to come up and lecture, I notice?” Buckland smiled. “Well, we didn’t exactly ask him. He asked himself. Of course, we are very glad to get him. As a matter of fact, he wrote to me saying he should be in Cambridge to-day and suggesting that I should fix up a lecture appointment for him. Only I’m afraid it won’t be well attended: there has been such short notice.”