His conscious self was in abeyance. Moonlight, music and woman had
bewitched him. He was in the grip of forces that played on him like an
instrument. But someone had to speak in the end. It was Evan.

"What was that you were playing?" he asked simply.

"The moonlight sonata," she answered.

"Of course! That's why it sounded so exactly right. Won't you play
again--please?"

She could not but have been aware how genuinely moved he was, but
however it may have pleased her, womanlike, she sought to pull down the
conversation to a safer plane.

"Oh, I can't!" she said. "I have unpacking to do. I was coming out to
get a match to light the gas. I can't find any."

"I'll light the gas for you," he said eagerly. She stood aside to let
him enter. The simple act thrilled him anew; she was not afraid of
him; her spirit greeted his. When she turned around he could see her
face etherealised in the moonlight, a lovely pale oval with two dark
pools. There was a subtle perfume in the room that made him a little
dizzy. In the act of striking a match he paused.

"Oh, it's a shame!" he said involuntarily.

"What is?" she asked.

"To light the gas on such a night."

She laughed. It was a delicious little sound. It seemed to bid him be
at home there. "One must!" she said. "What would the landlady say?"

But the tone of the denial encouraged him to insist. "A little more
music," he begged. "I never heard anything so lovely."

She went to the piano bench obediently. "Sit down if you can find a
place," she said over her shoulder.

Instead he came and leaned his elbows on the edge of the piano case.
Once more her fingers rippled over the keys, and another delicate minor
air ravished his soul. She did not seem to strike the keys, but to
draw out the sounds with the magical waving of her pale hands. She
kept her head down, and he could not see into her face. Nor could he
be sure of the colour of her hair, but only that it was shining.

In the middle of the piece the flying fingers began to falter. No
doubt the intense gaze he was bending on the top of her head confused
her. At any rate she broke off abruptly and jumped up.

A cry broke from Evan: "Oh, please go on!"

"I cannot! I cannot!" she said. "Light the gas." As he still
hesitated she stamped her foot with delightful imperiousness. "You
_must_ light the gas!"

With a sigh he struck the match. The gas flared up with a plop. Their
curious