He pushed back his chair, and, with a parting look of forgiveness, he went into the house and began to improvise (rather dismally) a well-known funeral march. Or perhaps it was only a coincidence. Perhaps he would have thought of it if Chopin hadn't.
Harry was only musical by fits and starts, and generally either to impress some one or because he was out of temper. Val never regarded it as a good sign when he grappled with the Steinway.
In ten minutes he had grown tired of his mood of melody, and strolled into the rose garden with a book.
Yes, certainly Harry was restless.
CHAPTER XXX
THE ANGLES
"You're very quiet, Val," remarked Daphne, as they flew along in the motor on their way to call on the Prebendary's wife at The Angles.
Both sisters wore little cottage bonnets, blue motor-veils, and large loose white coats with high collars.