That poor devil (his name, I remember, was Workman) was really and truly hounded to insanity and the grave, and she saw the thing in all its dreadful details.

I would rather she had got into a rage about it, as I should--but that isn't her nature." "Let us hope she could rejoice when Laud was laid by the heels." "I fear not.

I'm afraid she would forget, and make excuses for the blackguard." Glazzard smiled at the ceiling, and smoked silently.

Turning his eyes at length, and seeing Quarrier in a brown study, he contemplated the honest face, then asked: "How old is she ?" "Just one-and-twenty." "I should have thought younger." Nothing more was said of Lilian, and very soon they went to the room where she awaited them.
"I know you are a musician, Mr.Glazzard," said Lilian before long.
"Will you let me have the pleasure of hearing you play something ?" "Some enemy hath done this," the guest made reply, looking towards Denzil.
But without further protest he went to the piano and played two or three short pieces.

Any one with more technical knowledge than the hearers would have perceived that he was doing his best.