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Updated: May 19, 2025
In silence she awaited Roger's approval, her lips just parted, her face still alight with the joy of the creator who knows that his work is good. But the words for which she was listening did not come. . . . Instead utter silence! . . . Wondering, half apprehensive of she knew not what, Nan twisted round on the music-seat and looked across to where Roger was sitting.
Most of the men in the crowd waiting eagerly for the exquisite voice would have been moved to the heart's core by her tone and the expression in her usually cold eyes, but Stafford was clothed in the armour of his great love, and only inclined his head. "Thanks: anything you like," he said, with the proper amount of gratitude. She shot a glance at him and sank into the music-seat languidly.
She was a wonderful accompanist rarest of gifts and when, at the end of the song, the restrained, well-bred applause broke out, Peter Mallory's share of it was offered as much to the accompanist as to the singers themselves. "Stay where you are, Nan," cried Kitty, as the girl half rose from the music-seat. "Stay where you are and play us something."
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