Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. ’ The girl held out her hands. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. I imagine that even you must realize that this is of some importance. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. It's almost incredible. Before she passed out she turned and faced Sir John. The kindly faced landlady had failed to catch his name, and said he was a tall, handsome gentleman with a great black mustache.
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