"
"It was a melody from this overture?" she exclaimed.
"Yes, and it was Harry Feversham who played the melody. I did not guess
it at once. I was not very quick in those days."
"But you are now," said Ethne.
"Quicker, at all events. I should have guessed it now. Then, however, I
was only curious. I wondered how it was that an itinerant Greek came to
pick up the tune. At all events, I determined to reward him for his
diligence. I thought that you would like me to."
"Yes," said Ethne, in a whisper.
"So, when he came out from the cafe, and with his hat in his hand passed
through the jeering crowd, I threw a sovereign into the hat. He turned
to me with a start of surprise. In spite of his beard I knew him.
Besides, before he could check himself, he cried out 'Jack!'"
"You can have made no mistake, then," said Ethne, in a wondering voice.
"No, the man who strummed upon the zither was--" the Christian name was
upon her lips, but she had the wit to catch it back unuttered--"was Mr.
Feversham. But he knew no music I remember very well." She laughed with
a momentary recollection of Feversham's utter inability to appreciate
any music except that which she herself evoked from her violin.
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