"Hand it over, if you think you have found it, Mr. Traverse. I will play anything you choose from that untidy mass," and there was an amused look in her eyes as she watched the search. He was not likely to find what he wanted amongst those promiscuous sheets.
"But I do not know it when I see it, Miss Dexie," he replied. "I am sure you know what piece it is I refer to."
Dexie laughed at his bewildered expression; but as he looked at her, she said in a low tone:
"Yes, I know what you mean, Mr. Traverse, but I do not play that piece for everybody."
"Not for me, Miss Dexie?"
"No."
"What's all this about a piece of music, Dexie? I didn't come here to hear you two quarrelling," and her father smiled over at them. "Let us have the piece you were playing first, Dexie. It sounded fairly well, the little I heard of it."
"Choose something else, papa. Shall I play your favorite?" and she struck a few chords.
"No, not that! What is the reason you can't play the one I ask for?"
"That piece of music is only for one pair of ears, and they are not yours, papa, nor do they belong to Mr. Traverse. Name something else."