“Why waste yourself, John?” 241 < 31 > THE CONCERT Martin Chen showed up early for the pre-concert warm-up at 5:00. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. There's a letter for the head turnkey, Mr. Melusine got to her feet and, tucking her shoulder under his arm on the uninjured side, put her arm about him to hold his waist, and thus contrived to take most of his weight. I'm no great judge of these articles, Ma'am; but I trust to your honour not to palm off paste upon me. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil.
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