I saw that I had succeeded in interesting him in some way unknown to myself; and I waited patiently until he was prepared to answer me.
"The thing you mention," he said, "the clew (as you call it), might be seen and might be touched--supposing you could find it." "In this house ?" I asked.
The Major advanced a step nearer to me, and answered-- "In this room." My head began to swim; my heart throbbed violently.

I tried to speak; it was in vain; the effort almost choked me.

In the silence I could hear the music-lesson still going on in the room above.

The future prima donna had done practicing her scales, and was trying her voice now in selections from Italian operas.

At the moment when I first heard her she was singing the beautiful air from the _Somnambula,_ "Come per me sereno." I never hear that delicious melody, to this day, without being instantly transported in imagination to the fatal back-room in Vivian Place.
The Major--strongly affected himself by this time--was the first to break the silence.
"Sit down again," he said; "and pray take the easy-chair.