the house before she did, at the end of the day
stayed longer at the office; not by intention but because his work
called for longer hours. In the evening she stayed with her faded old
aunt in their part of the house. The other roomers were as quiet and
exclusive as the prospectus had promised. So David, in his new
quarters--pleasant enough once his things had been installed--was left
alone with his books, his letters to Shirley and his work for the
successful Dick Holden.

But there was something in that house--not to be accounted for by mere
creature comforts--that made it easier to fight off the blue devils of
loneliness and took away a little of the reminder's stings when some
tantalizing shape appeared in his tobacco clouds. Every morning he was
awakened by her voice at the piano, a few minutes of scales and then
one song, always a true matin song, full of hope and the sheer joy of
living. In the evening she sang again, a little longer at scales and
another song, sometimes two. Then David's door would be set on a crack
and he would lean back in his chair, listening and thrilling with some
emotion as vague but as beautiful as a very good idea in ecclesiastical
architecture. Sometimes a film would come over his eyes; it is not
clear why, for when she sang he forgot to remember that he was a
failure, that he was in mourning for a love lately dead and that he had
become a mere drudge for money.

One evening when he had been under that roof for nearly three weeks she
did not stop with the second or even the third song. Ballads and arias
followed until she had sung steadily for more than an hour. Wondering,
David stole from his room and sat with the other roomers on the stairs,
listening raptly to the golden voice that floated up to them. And not
once did it falter or lose its pure timbre.

Silence fell at last. The other roomers, sighing, went back to their
rooms. David went down to the parlor.

The singer was still sitting before the piano, absent eyes fixed on the
open sheet of music; a happy but half-incredulous smile was playing
about her lips. It became a friendly welcoming smile when she saw him
at the door.

"Did you like my little concert?"

"Like it!" He used a gesture to explain that she had set too big a
task for his tongue.

Her cheeks made answer.

"Do you know," he asked abruptly, "that your voice is getting better
and stronger all the time?"

"I think so," she said quietly.

"