"There is one that I should like to hear," she said musingly. "You played it once, years ago, on a comb. I have not heard it since." She laughed sweetly.
Schubert smiled. The hurt look stole from his eyes.
"You will hear it—my 'Erlkönig'?" he demanded.
She nodded.
"I will play it to you when I come back," he said contentedly.
She stopped short in the path.
"When you come back!" The subtle eyes were wide. They were not laughing.
"Ja, I shall——"
"Where are you going?"
He rubbed his great nose in the moonlight.