At The Symphony.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 7, 16 February 1907, Page 36

At The Symphony.

The great orchestra was playing it* nim>t compelling number. She sat as ent enwrapped in an ecstatic dream. He sat lieside her. ft was lie who had bought the tickets. “Perfectly grand!” he whispered in her eat. She remained silent, drinking in the divine meledv. “Don’t you think so? ” he added, a moment later. A faint sign of distress passed over hef beautiful features. “Yes,” she breathed so faintly that she hoped it would not disturb her blissful enchantment. A moment of heavenly hush, and then “ What marvellous phrasing! ” She said nothing. She was far away in a realm of delight so delicious, so delicate, the faintest breath of discord would alarm and destroy it. She sought to deaden her organ of hearing to his rasping words and to make herself believe he had not spoken. But he had, and he followed his previous remark with “ Did you ever hear it done better? ” She very nearly succeeded in giving him a mere mechanical, lip-formed “ No,” without vexing her transported consciousness. For full a moment he remained speechless, forgetting to bruise the tender blossoms of melody with his harsh bludgeon of words. His eyes were closed. How heavenly it all seemed. She was drifting in an ethereal sea of harnionie bliss, when there eame erushing into the charmed audience chamber of her dreams the question: “ Have you ever tried listening to music with your eyes closed?” The crisis had come. She uttered a faint gasp of starless despair, like one bidding farewell to a dear, divine, hope. Looking her devilish tormentor full in the eyes she said sweetly, as only a thrice embittered woman ean: “Oil, yes; ami I think it heightens the pleasurable effect; but did you ever try listening to musie with the month shut?” And the flutes and the oboes and the violins played on. Likewise the tuba, the triangle and the kettle-drums.