which was rather emphasised than concealed, by the fair, scanty tuft
of hair that hung from his chin. Upon the two new-comers, he bent a
cold, deliberate gaze, which, for some instants, he allowed to rest
chillingly on them, then as deliberately withdrew, having--so at least
it seemed to those who were its object--having, without the tremor of
an eyelid, scanned them like an open page: it was the look,
impenetrable, all-seeing, of the physician for his patient. At the
piano, a young man was playing the Waldstein Sonata. So intent was he
on what he was doing, that his head all but touched the music standing
open before him, while his body, bent thus double, swayed vigorously
from side to side. His face was crimson, and on his forehead stood out
beads of perspiration. He had no cuffs on, and his sleeves were a
little turned back. The movement at an end, he paused, and drawing a
soiled handkerchief from his pocket, passed it rapidly over neck and
brow. In the ADAGIO which followed, he displayed an extreme delicacy
of touch--not, however, but what this also cost him some exertion, for,
previous to the striking of each faint, soft note, his hand described
a curve in the air, the finger he was about to use, lowered,
the others slightly raised, and there was always a second of something
like suspense, before it finally sank upon the expectant note. But
suddenly, without warning, just as the last, lingering tones were
dying to the close they sought, the ADAGIO slipped over into the
limpid gaiety of the RONDO, and then, there was no time more for
premeditation: then his hands twinkled up and down, joining, crossing,
flying asunder, alert with little sprightly quirks and turns, going
ever more nimbly, until the brook was a river, the allegretto a
prestissimo, which flew wildly to its end amid a shower of dazzling
trills.

Schwarz stood grave and apparently impassive; from time to time,