Two days later I was at Leopold Godowsky’s. The lovable old man, no longer active as a pianist, lived up to his reputation as a wit, entertaining his friends and playing some of his clever and overexpanded transcriptions. His nimble fingers’ appetite, as if not satisfied with the offered intricacies, hungrily snapped with lightning speed at more keys than seemed possible. Almost inaudible, it was fascinating to watch. His son-in-law, David Saperton, played something of Godowsky too-to my surprise, still faster and softer. With Godowsky, I played his Larghetto lamentoso, a singing piece I always liked. Its slow tempo came as a relief.