Her memory seemed to have carried her back into another world, somewhere far away from this dingy little sitting-room which they two were sharing together, back into a world where life and death were matters of small moment, where the great passions were unchained, and men and women moved among the naked things of life.
Almost he felt the thrill of it.

It was something new to him, the touch of a magic finger upon his eyelids.

Then the moment passed and he was himself again, matter-of-fact, prosaic.
"Let us dismiss the subject finally," he said.

"I must see your sister on business to-morrow, but it shall be for the last time." "I think," she murmured, "that you will be wise." He crossed the room and returned with a newspaper.
"I saw your music in the hall as I came in," he remarked.

"Are you singing to-night ?" The question was entirely in his ordinary tone.