He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. ” Her voice trembled with suppressed passion. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. ” “Quite. She had had two days of employment-seeking now. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. 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. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. ” “I am your friend,” he said slowly, “whatever you may have to tell me.
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