“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. "I am very happy to be of service to you. ’” She played “If I Were a Rich Man,” adding syrupy trills and flourishes at every phrase. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. She moved a little nearer to him. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. “You have the ideas. It is repulsive. ‘Not yet, madame. ” Her first upward glance was one of terrified apprehension. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means.
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