“Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly. It was a purse. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. " In spite of her displeasure, Winifred could not help smiling at the absurdity of this address. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. “I am just back from Paris. .
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