of the stairway started to hum it, but he could not remember the words. Moved by a sudden impulse Dane mounted a few steps and waited for Valerie to begin the air again. Then his voice rang out in a hushed silence, “Drink to me only with thine eyes,” and until he had finished the second verse there was not a sound in the house. There was a burst of applause and calls for more, but he shook his head, slipped down the stairs, and disappeared along the hall looking for Mac who was not about the bar.
Thrilled at the piano, and wondering who on earth had that tenor voice, Valerie had begun “Come into the Garden, Maud,” and was grievously disappointed that the voice did not go on. She played one more old English air, but the company below had drifted back to the bar, and having given it its entertainment she turned to Beethoven.
Dane found Mac in a private room with Doctor Steele and a government inspector.
“Who’s playing, Mac?” he asked.
“Miss Carr, I guess.”
“Who’s she?”
“Where the bloody hell have you been? Davenport Carr’s girl, you know. She’s come to the News.”
“Oh.” Dane sat down and ordered whisky.
“Have a game?” asked Mac.
“Yes, presently.” He held his head as if he were listening. Michael brought in the drinks. Dane’s attention wandered. He stood up.
“I say, that’s music. I want to listen to it for a while. I’ll be back.”
His desertion of them did not annoy or astonish the men left behind.
Dane went upstairs to Mac’s room which was next the
