Papa Péron dropped his slender, artistic hands on the last chord. "My young friend, you are great," he said quietly. "Success to you is only a matter of time. Another glass of Chambertin?"
Nello drained it; he felt strangely elated. "Ah, Monsieur, but your accompaniment was half the battle. When I faltered, you stimulated me. You must have been a magnificent pianist."
Anita broke in in her gentle voice. The daughter of an English mother, she spoke the tongue of her adopted country very fluently.
"You put great heart into us, Monsieur. But when you speak of success, I remember that we have earned just about three shillings to-night."
Péron, the optimist, waved his hand airily. "Look up to the stars, my child, and hope. I have a