"What is that?"
She followed his gaze as it travelled into the depth of the room beyond the circle of the lamp-light, where the grand piano stood. Its keyboard shone in an even band of white, its massive body merged in the gleaming darkness.
"If you would play to me—some day."
"I will play to you with pleasure." Her voice sounded as if she were breathing more freely; perhaps she had wondered what on earth he was going to say. "Now, if you like."
Why not? If she had enjoyed his music, had he not a right to enjoy hers? Why should she not give him that little pleasure, he who had so few?
"What shall I play?"
"I should like to hear that thing you were playing the other night."
"Let me think. Oh, the Sonata Appassionata."
"Yes, if it isn't too late." The moment he had said it he reflected that that was a scruple that might have been better left to the lady.
He watched her grey-white figure departing into the dusk of the room. He longed to follow, but some fear restrained him. He remained where he was, leaning back in the deep chair under the lamp while she sat down there in the dusk, playing to him the Sonata Appassionata.