‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. Saw the villain through the keyhole.
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