She thought of the organ, and descending to the art gallery, played Bach, Palestrina, and Stainer for an hour; then suddenly she started from the console, with a sharp, impatient movement of her head.

“Why do I play this stupid music?” she exclaimed. She called a servant and asked:

“Has Mr. Jadwin come in yet?”

“ Mr. Gretry just this minute telephoned that Mr. Jadwin would not be home tonight.”

When the servant had gone out Laura, her lips compressed, flung up her head. Her hands shut to hard fists, her eye flashed. Rigid, erect in the middle of the floor, her arms folded, she uttered a smothered exclamation over and over again under her breath.