The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. ” “Don’t say that,” Sydney begged. “Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. He then said that if she would not obey him in this course she should “never darken his doors again,” and was, indeed, frightfully abusive.
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