"Thank you. And I—?"
"If you like—yes. After all, as you say, we're friends—and a little homesick."
"Thank you, Margery."
Andrew resumed his playing, turning a few pages.
"Ah, Love, could you and I with Fate conspire
To grasp the sorry scheme of things entire,
Would we not shatter it to bits—and then
Remould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!"
Behind him, the girl, unseen, unheard, was whispering a word for every chord. Once, her hand went out toward the smooth, close-cropped head, bent in eager attention above the score.
"Ah, Love!" said the music.
"Ah, love!" whispered Margery Palffy.
"What a lot there is in this!" exclaimed Andrew, crashing into two sharps.