The child's eyes waited on the queer, perturbed face. She gave a quick little sigh. Her lips had parted.
He looked down with a sudden big smile.
"I will never play it for you again," he said grandly. The spectacles descended swiftly, the door banged behind him, and the child was left alone in the great dim hall.
II
The heat of the day was nearly spent, but the leaves of the oaks hung motionless. The two young men walking beneath them had bared their heads. One of them glanced up now and then, as if looking for coolness in the green canopy.
"It will rain before night," said the baron, casually, noting the glance. His lithe figure, in its white suit and blue tie, showed no sign of heat or fatigue.
The musician, puffing beside him, wiped a handkerchief across his warm face.
"Ja, it will rain," he assented hopefully.