She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding. Get a license—just an idea of mine. Sir John felt that after all forty-five was not so very old. ’ She giggled suddenly. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. . They conversed, or more or less she interviewed him. “Come,” she said. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. But to live at peace with your neighbour….
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