"How so?" asked Wild, curiously. My heart fails me. . He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. 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. Perhaps it was loneliness.
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