Connie, of late, had been giving much thought to Petrovitch.
That gentleman was well aware that she avoided seeing him because her nephew had persuaded her to do so, and he was not pleased. There were other things that did not please him. His concerts had been less successful than they should have been—was it possible that his popularity was on the wane?—and his wealthy American wife, who, up till now, had been very prodigal with her money, had just obtained a divorce from him. He had believed all along that she would relent. However, the thing that most seriously disquieted him was the unsatisfactory condition of the box office returns. He accused his manager of failing to advertise. He said unkind things of the British public. He said there wasn't a decent hall in London, from the point of view of acoustics, and lastly he claimed that the food offered to him at the many houses where he was entertained, was abominable, and was ruining his digestion.
