“Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. 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. Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. It isn’t illusions—for us. It would make my wife very happy. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted. "The other kid's given my partner the slip. There is nobody, then?" "Oh, there is an aunt. " "Winifred," said Mrs.
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