She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. Marvel, therefore, remained on his probation. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being.
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