He glanced at his watch. Then he understood. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. As soon as the cavalcade stopped, the sexton advanced, and, ringing a handbell, pronounced the following admonition. Mr. . But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. ‘Alcide’ or no ‘Alcide,’ there is not a music hall manager in London or Paris who would not give you an engagement on your own merits. Then he sat down and filled his pipe slowly and thoughtfully. Supper was over. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. Still it was possible, and the difficulty was only a fresh incitement.
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