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And
,
happy
melodist
,
unwearied
,
For
ever
piping
songs
for
ever
new
!
.
.
.
"
It
gave
Julia
an
opportunity
to
think
.
She
stared
in
the
unlit
fire
,
her
gaze
intent
,
as
though
she
were
entranced
by
the
exquisite
beauty
of
those
words
.
It
was
quite
obvious
that
he
just
hadn
’
t
understood
.
It
could
hardly
be
wondered
at
.
She
had
been
deaf
to
his
passionate
entreaties
for
twenty
years
,
and
it
was
very
natural
if
he
had
given
up
his
quest
as
hopeless
.
It
was
like
Mount
Everest
;
if
those
hardy
mountaineers
who
had
tried
for
so
long
in
vain
to
reach
the
summit
finally
found
an
easy
flight
of
steps
that
led
to
it
,
they
simply
would
not
believe
their
eyes
:
they
would
think
there
was
a
catch
in
it
.
Julia
felt
that
she
must
make
herself
a
little
plainer
;
she
must
,
as
it
were
,
reach
out
a
helping
hand
to
the
weary
pilgrim
.
"
It
’
s
getting
dreadfully
late
,
"
she
said
softly
.
"
Show
me
your
new
drawing
and
then
I
must
go
home
.
"
He
rose
and
she
gave
him
both
her
hands
so
that
he
should
help
her
up
from
the
sofa
.
They
went
upstairs
.
His
pyjamas
and
dressing
-
gown
were
neatly
arranged
on
a
chair
.
"
How
well
you
single
men
do
yourselves
.
Such
a
cosy
,
friendly
bedroom
.
"
He
took
the
framed
drawing
off
the
wall
and
brought
it
over
for
her
to
look
at
under
the
light
.
It
was
a
portrait
in
pencil
of
a
stoutish
woman
in
a
bonnet
and
a
lownecked
dress
with
puffed
sleeves
.
Julia
thought
her
plain
and
the
dress
ridiculous
.
"
Isn
’
t
it
ravishing
?
"
she
cried
.
"
I
knew
you
’
d
like
it
.
A
good
drawing
,
isn
’
t
it
?
"
