He was improvising on a popular number, a favourite with the crooners, ‘How are you getting on with your forgetting?’, and as he let the familiar notes trickle through his fingers he watched with wide-open lazy eyes the irritated woman standing above him.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Gerry,” she began at last, “you’ll be sorry if you don’t hear this. This is serious!”
“Nothing is serious today,” he said, shaking his head and sliding into a rumba rhythm. “I can’t hear a word you say. Mime it. At least that’ll make it funny.” The notion seemed to amuse him for he laughed and the original tune re-emerged and grew and changed under his hands.
Edna swung away and Richard, who was dancing already, caught her and swept her down the room. She was taken by surprise but she responded and her expression c
