From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. Why he paid so much attention to Sir James Thornhill may be explained anon. “I should kill you. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony.
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