Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. It filled his thoughts for the rest of the day, and became an obsession. ‘You would have a history of my life? Very well. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. It’s a lake among precipices, and there is a little inn where we can stay, and sit and eat our dinner at a pleasant table that looks upon the lake. He—wanted to marry me. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. ’ ‘Well, but he was a deserter, you see.
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