[…] I happened to be improvising as usual, instead of studying Bach. He [unnamed young man] said to me, in such a pleasant voice, “Continuez, continuez, Mademoiselle; je vous en prie, ne vous dérangez pas,” that I decided to go on. Unlike Op. 1 and Op. 2 of Heidelberg fame, which firmly refused to budge outside the limits of a single octave, this new inspiration lied from top to bottom of the piano, like a hunted hare with a pack of hounds in full pursuit. I believe I really didn’t play at all badly for a little girl whose skirts hardly reached below her knees— anyhow, the nice-looking young man was quite impressed. He cried, “Brava! bis! Mais comme vous jouez bien— c’est étonnant, c’est vraiment étonnant!” I didn’t look round, but I was “tickled to death,” as my American schoolfellows would have said, at so unexpected and warm a tribute to my performance.