‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered.
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