She drew her hand wearily across her forehead and closed her eyes for an instant, then went to him, and put her hands on his knees.
"I see you," she said, meaningly.
"Where, Peggy?" His voice was low and very gentle, as if he were speaking to a child.
"Here, with the blood. You shall have many sorrows, but never your heart's desire."
"Never my heart's desire?"
"No. Many sorrows, at the time of the blood, but not that."
"What is my heart's desire?"
"It has not come, but you will know it soon." She looked at him keenly for an instant, then laughed mockingly, and almost before they knew it, she had darted out into the night like the wild thing that she was.
No one spoke until after Chandonnais had put the violin in its place on the chimney-shelf and clambered up the ladder which led to the loft.
"Who is she, Uncle?"