finishing his sleep in some distant part of the house. The silence was
profound, and lasted long enough to become startling. Then, enthroned
above Davidson, she whispered at last:

"That friend of yours."

"Oh, you know I am here looking for a friend," said Davidson hopefully.
"Won't you tell me--"

"I've told you"

"Eh?"

A mist seemed to roll away from before Davidson's eyes, disclosing
something he could not believe.

"You can't mean it!" he cried. "He's not the man for it." But the last
words came out in a faint voice. Mrs. Schomberg never moved her head the
least bit. Davidson, after the shock which made him sit up, went slack
all over.

"Heyst! Such a perfect gentleman!" he exclaimed weakly.

Mrs. Schomberg did not seem to have heard him. This startling fact did
not tally somehow with the idea Davidson had of Heyst. He never talked
of women, he never seemed to think of them, or to remember that they
existed; and then all at once--like this! Running off with a casual
orchestra girl!

"You might have knocked me down with a feather," Davidson told us some