that is told dramatically in a tongue unknown.

The Count stood up and played with no fine frenzy, no rolling eyes,
no swaying form; for such are the signs of a hopeless effort, hung
out by the man who has heard the story and tries in vain to tell it
himself.

Even Agatha was outdone, for Luke drifted off into absent-
mindedness, and after a little effort she left him to return at his
own time. She listened to the music herself, but it did not seem to
touch her. For sound ascends, and this was already above Agatha
Ingham-Baker's head. The piece over, Mrs. Harrington selected
another.

"You did not go across to Mallorca?" she inquired, in a voice that
did not reach the other room. "No," he answered, "I did not go
across to Mallorca."

He stepped back a pace to move a chair which was too near to him,
and the movement made it impossible for her to continue the
conversation without raising her voice. She countered at once by
rising and laying the music aside.

"I am too tired for more," she said. "You must ask Agatha to
accompany you. She plays beautifully. I have it from her mother!"

Mrs. Harrington stood for a moment looking into the other room.
Luke and Agatha were talking together with some animation.

"I have been very busy lately," she said conversationally. "Perhaps