In the evening went with Mama to the concert by Romanovsky, who is playing my Sonata. A million acquaintances, more like a fashionable salon than a concert. Two families who cannot stand each other, the Ruzskys and the Meshcherskys, vied for hegemony; both are friends of ROmanovsky, both brought along a large entourage of supporters, both presented noble bouquets, and finally both proudly claimed acquaintance with Yershov, who in consequence was obliged to divide his allegiance by seating himself alongside the Meshcherskys while his daughter sat with the Ruzskys. I said to Vera Nikolayevna that Nina and I resembled respectively an elephant and a pug, to which she responded that if this were the case then Nina was a small elephant and I was a very large pug.

Present at the concert were Alpers, Bushen, Kreisler and Damskaya. When Romanovsky began the Sonata they all looked over in my direction, as if to see what I thought about it. At first the attention was welcome, but later it became annoying. Romanovsky played the Sonata well, although there were a few details he did not bring out correctly. Towards the end I grew nervous, fearing that I would be called to take a bow. And indeed, the Sonata being a success, there were enthusiastic calls for the composer and I got up uncertain whether to take a bow on the stage or to acknowledge the applause from the floor.