"What did you ring for, Sir?" she asked, eyeing the group with astonishment. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. The Frenchman was already being followed. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. She seemed tense when not playing, he noted, more so than she had during the first two pieces. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. "My head fairly turns round. Here are the jade carvers. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating. There was a long silence between them.
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