’ He opened the purse and extracted a couple of guineas. Almost light-heartedly. The man was thick set, with a bright roving eye. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. She did not answer him, as she did not know what to say. With a little more meat on him, he would be handsome. “Ann Veronica,” he said, “I tell you this is love.
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