“I should like you to come here,” she said. Valade accorded the major’s greeting a brief nod and gave his attention back to St Erme. She got hysterical. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. The Father did not know of course about her connection with the Valades. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. She doubted if Manning would even listen to that. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. "When did you see him, my love?" "A short time ago," replied the housekeeper, unsuspiciously. " A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in a singular way. It seems to me very silly.
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