The major’s hand stilled. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. Wood heard the cry. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. “Who?” She asked. Here a little delay occurred.
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