Then he went to rehearsal, arriving an hour behind time, at least, a matter which he treated with the coolest indifference.

After that he got a pound of small shot, and amused himself with throwing a few at a time at the kitchen window from the little court at the back of our house, where the well is.

It seemed a strangely childish amusement for a great singer.
Having sung successfully through his opera that night, he had supper with us, as usual, and then went out.

Of course he told me afterwards what he did.

He went to his old post under the windows of the Palazzo Carmandola, and as soon as all was dark he began to throw small shot up at Hedwig's window.