Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. The stairs were outside but they had been covered with a thin plastic roof. Under happier circumstances nothing would have given me more pleasure than to have offered you a home with your sister. ‘Obsessed, that’s what you are. ” “Did it come—in Paris?” “I do not know,” he answered. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. “Yes.
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