For almost invariably at such times, Amy would come behind him, her plump softly rounded arm would find its way down over his shoulder--and little by little the music would change and would come back to Broadway.
When Joe heard one evening that Ethel was "mad to learn to sing," he took her by the arm at once and marched her over to the piano.

And they had quite a session together--till Amy suggested going out to a new cabaret she had heard of that day.

Her voice sounded hurt and strained.
And Ethel from that night on dropped all mention of singing.
Her curiosity deepened toward this city love affair, this husband and wife who apparently had left so many things out of their lives, things vital in the Ohio town.

The sober wee girl in the nursery kept just as quiet as before.

Often Ethel opened that door and went in and tried to make friends with its grave shy little inmate and the hostile nurse.
And returning to her room she would frown and wonder for a time.