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One may go all wrong from the start; and I do really want to get on. I simply adore my work. I don't mean to let love stand in its way; I want to make it help, you know. Count Rosek says my dancing lacks passion. I wish you'd tell me if you think it does. I should believe YOU." Gyp shook her head. "I'm not a judge." Daphne Wing looked up reproachfully. "Oh, I'm sure you are!
He was playing Schumann's Child Music. How could one who produced such fresh idyllic sounds have sinister intentions? And presently she said: "Count Rosek!" "Madame?" "Will you please tell me why you sent Daphne Wing here yesterday?" "I send her?" "Yes." But instantly she regretted having asked that question. He had swung round on the music-stool and was looking full at her. His face had changed.
I will pay you your thousand pounds." Rosek, still smiling, answered: "Gustav, don't be a fool! With a violin to your shoulder, you are a man. Without you are a child. Lie quiet, my friend, and think of Mr. Wagge. But you had better come and talk it over with me. Good-bye for the moment. Calm yourself." And, flipping the ash off his cigarette on to the tray by Fiorsen's elbow, he nodded and went.
"Count Rosek says the world is waiting for me " She paused with a sugar-plum halfway to her lips, and added doubtfully: "Do you think that's true?" Gyp answered with a soft: "I hope so." "He says I'm something new. It would be nice to think that. He has great taste; so has Mr. Fiorsen, hasn't he?"
With a sense of outrage, Gyp cried: "Nearly everything here is mine." Rosek shook his head. "The lease is in his name you are his wife. They can do it, I assure you." A sort of shadow passed over his face, and he added: "I cannot help him any more just now." Gyp shook her head quickly. "No of course! You ought not to have helped him at all. I can't bear " He bowed, and she stopped, ashamed.
Must she tell him, too, of Rosek was it wise, or necessary? The all-or-nothing candour that was part of her nature prevailed, and she went straight on, and, save for the feverish jerking of his evening shoe, Winton made no sign.
The only person, besides her master, to whom she confided her efforts was strangely enough Rosek. But he had surprised her one day copying out some music, and said at once: "I knew. I was certain you composed. Ah, do play it to me! I am sure you have talent."
He seemed really to have missed "his little friend," to be glad at seeing her again; and Gyp, who never could withstand appreciation, smiled at him. More people came. She saw Rosek talking to her husband, and the young alabaster girl standing silent, her lips still a little parted, gazing up at Fiorsen.
Gazing, as the attendant had, at his furious face, she went on: "I don't know how it is, but I'm not a bit afraid of you now. I used to be. Oh, how is Count Rosek? Is he as pale as ever? Aren't you going to have anything more? You've had hardly anything. D'you know what I should like a chocolate eclair and a raspberry ice-cream soda with a slice of tangerine in it."
The morning passed as usual; but when she came to the music-room at noon, she found that he had gone out. She was just sitting down to lunch when Betty, with the broad smile which prevailed on her moon-face when someone had tickled the right side of her, announced: "Count Rosek." Gyp got up, startled. "Say that Mr. Fiorsen is not in, Betty.
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