She went into the living room, and there at the piano she was soon playing softly.

Listening from his study, again the feeling came to him of her fresh and abundant vitality.

He mused a little enviously on how it must feel to be strong like that, never really tired.
And while her father thought in this wise, Deborah at the piano, leaning back with eyes half closed, could feel her tortured nerves relax, could feel her pulse stop throbbing so and the dull aching at her temples little by little pass away.

She played like this so many nights.

Soon she would be ready for sleep.
* * * * * After she had gone to bed, Roger rose heavily from his chair.