Verreker mentioned a title she could not hear. George had apparently caught something. He whispered to her in spasms: “Jeux--something or other, I think he said. French, I suppose. Modern French. Debussy school, you know. Oh, it’s ‘Jeux d’Eaux.’ I heard him say it again. ‘Jeux d’Eaux,’ that’s what it is.... One of Ravel’s things, you know.” ... § 7 Verreker returned to his seat. There followed a baritone song of the rollicking variety, a ’cello solo, and then Mrs. Trant called for a “pianoforte solo by Miss Catherine Weston.” Catherine rose languidly, and picked her way amongst the violins and music-stands to the piano. She screwed the stool an inch or so higher (it being a point of honour with her always to make some alteration, however slight, in the seating accommodation provided for her), then she lowered the music-rest and slid it back as far as it would go. Her first piece was to be the “Butterfly” Study in G flat (Chopin), so she gently ran her hands arpeggio-wise along the tonic and inversions of G flat. Having done this she paused, chafed her fingers delicately, and tossed her head. The lamp at her side shone on her magnificent hair, throwing her face and bust into severe profile. It was then that she noticed a slight commotion in the far corner of the room. A man was disengaging himself from the closely-wedged throng and proceeding to the doorway. As he passed the fireplace the flames flickered brightly round a log of wood just placed on the fire. Catherine in a swift glance saw that it was Verreker.... Carefully he wound his way to the door and passed out.