p.126 Pachmann was his own publicity agent. He was an eccentric. He used to play heaven knows how many encores at the end of a recital. There is a very good story about Pachmann which indirectly describes the sort of player he was. Another pianist went round to see him after he had given a recital, and there was Pachmann, in the artists' room, kissing his own fingers—making a tribute of love to his fingers. He had an extraordinary felicity of touch. He could play the nocturnes and the waltzes of Chopin, but he could not always do full justice to the bigger-scale works. When he played the ballades of Chopin, something went wrong: it was like too many lovely roses overwhelming the trellis, and the trellis fell down.