"Velasco—Velasco!"
Suddenly he started.
He looked up at the gallery and his bow slipped from his hand. He stared motionless. The first violin stooped and picked up the bow.
"Monsieur—" he whispered, "Monsieur Velasco, are you ill?"
"No—no!" The Violinist passed his hand over his eyes. "No—I am not ill! It was a vision—an illusion! A trick of the senses! It is gone now!"
He bowed again mechanically, taking the bow, lifting the violin again to his cheek. "An illusion!" he muttered: "A trick of the senses! God, how it haunts me!" He nodded to the Kapellmeister.
They went on.
"Let me out!" said Kaya, "I am faint—let me out! Let me—out!" She struggled to the door, through the crowd, pressing her way slowly, painfully. Her cheeks were white and she was panting.
"Ah—for God's sake! Let me out!"