He replied, 'I sometimes work at it for fourteen days and nights together, during which I live on music only, and then I rest for years at a time.' 'Will you play me something out of your Don Juan Triumphant ?' I asked, thinking to please him.

'You must never ask me that,' he said, in a gloomy voice.

'I will play you Mozart, if you like, which will only make you weep; but my Don Juan, Christine, burns; and yet he is not struck by fire from Heaven.' Thereupon we returned to the drawing-room.

I noticed that there was no mirror in the whole apartment.

I was going to remark upon this, but Erik had already sat down to the piano.