Certain phrases in Fred's letter had sunk deep into her mind, they were recalled very vividly by the presence of the man himself, telling his own story.

She sat in the sunlight with the music in her ears, listening to his abrupt, vivid speech, and a fear came to her which blanched her cheeks and caught at her throat.

The hand which held her dainty parasol of lace shook, and an indescribable thrill ran through her veins.

She could no more think of this man as a clodhopper, a coarse upstart without manners or imagination.

In many ways he fell short of all the usual standards by which the men of her class were judged, yet she suddenly realised that he possessed a touch of that quality which lifted him at once far over their heads, The man had genius.