Par 1 p.64 My mother never protested against these cold suppers, and would often indeed arrange them on a couple of plates in pretty-looking patterns as one might arrange flowers: nor in general did she ever show herself unsympathetic with my musical proclivities, though she was not very musical herself, in spite of her studying the piano with Maggie Oakey [Okey] and having once had a five-minute lesson from that lady's famous husband, the buffoon-pianist Vladimir Pachmann.

Par 2 p.208 Against the general background of Sunday afternoons at the Albert Hall, of nightly proms at Langham Place, and, in a minor way, of days at the White City, a few names stand out in the memory I have to rely on, with no programmes to help me, for everything before 1915: namely Pachmann, Paderewski, Elena Gerhardt, Julia Culp, Casals, Cortot-Thibaut-Casals, Ysaÿe, and Ysaÿe-and-Pugno.

Par 3 Pachmann and Paderewski specially pleased me with their Chopin (I remember vividly the former's 'feathery' pianissimo, as Harold Schonberg [The Great Pianists, by Harold C. Schonberg, Gollancz, 1964] justly describes it) and with divers externalities: Pachmann with his familiar winks and idiotic mutterings and his antics at the piano-stool, and Paderewski. . . . p.209 The other pianists I heard were undoubtedly greater than either Pachmann or Paderewski, though for some reason or other they meant less to me: Godowsky, Emil Sauer, Sapelnikoff, Moriz Rosenthal and, best of all, Teresa Carrèno, so magisterial and yet so tender.