“Which, I think I am fair, is music,” Graham said.

“And on music he is insufferable,” Lute observed. “It’s the only thing he doesn’t know the least thing about. He drives one frantic.”

“Never mind,” Paula soothed, in gurgling tones. “You will all be avenged. Dick just whispered to me to get the philosophers up to- morrow night. You know how they talk music. A musical critic is their awful prey.”

“Terrence said the other night that there was no closed season on musical critics,” Lute contributed.

“Terrence and Aaron will drive him to drink,” Paula laughed her joy of anticipation. “And Dar Hyal, alone, with his blastic