"I don't know," Venner said. "You never can tell. But don't let's talk.
We are here more to listen than anything else. I wish we could get a
glimpse of the singer."

"I am going to," Gurdon declared. "Unless I am greatly mistaken, I have
made a discovery, too. Oh, I am not going to take any risk. Do you see
that mirror opposite the door? It strikes me if I get close enough to
look into it that I shall be able to see who is in the room without
betraying my presence."

So saying, Gurdon crept forward till he was close enough to the mirror to
get a very good idea of the room and its occupants. He could see a pale
figure in white standing by a piano; he could see that Fenwick was
sprawling in a big armchair, smoking a large cigar. Then he noticed that
the girl crossed the floor and laid a slim hand half timidly, half
imploringly, on Fenwick's shoulder.

"Why are you so unkind to me?" she said. "Why so cruel? How many times
have you promised me that you will bring him back to me again? I get so
tired of waiting, I feel so sad and weary, and at times my mind seems to
go altogether."

"Have patience," Fenwick said. "If you will only wait a little longer he
will come back to you right enough. Now go to the piano and sing me
another song before I go to bed. Do you hear what I say?"

The last words were harshly uttered; the girl reeled back as if fearing
a blow. Gurdon standing there clenched his fists impulsively; he had
considerable difficulty in restraining himself.