’ The girl bit her lip and backed a little, while her husband shifted to stand at her side. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. They WERE, she realized, acutely beautiful things. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. 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.
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