” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. 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. “Everything will follow,” she said. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. Of course this thing was absolutely impossible. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner. CHAPTER I.
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