"You shall see him to-morrow. ” “I didn’t understand—your idea of making love. He left his companion in the midst of a glowing eulogy of Bastien Leparge, and boldly intercepted his hostess as she moved from one group to join another. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. . "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. "We were close upon him when he suddenly disappeared. You do not need my compliments.
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