“I should like to understand you,” he said. “She was the High Priestess who turned me in Greece, before Rome. I won’t try. "To-morrow I will take you to him. 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. To love in such a way, it is excessively selfish. When you've seized him, cough thrice thus,—and two rough-looking gentlemen will make their appearance. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed.
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