She could
not see anybody! But the maid only brought a note from Aunt Rosamund,
and the dogs, who fell frantically on their mistress and instantly began
to fight for her possession. She went on her knees to separate them, and
enjoin peace and good-will, and their little avid tongues furiously
licked her cheeks. Under the eager touch of those wet tongues the band
round her brain and heart gave way; she was overwhelmed with longing for
her baby. Nearly a day since she had seen her--was it possible? Nearly a
day without sight of those solemn eyes and crinkled toes and fingers! And
followed by the dogs, she went upstairs.

The house was invisible from the music-room; and, spurred on by thought
that, until Fiorsen knew she was back, those two might be there in each
other's arms any moment of the day or night, Gyp wrote that evening:

"DEAR GUSTAV,--We are back.--GYP."

What else in the world could she say? He would not get it till he woke
about eleven. With the instinct to take all the respite she could, and
knowing no more than before how she would receive his return, she went
out in the forenoon and wandered about all day shopping and trying not to
think. Returning at tea-time, she went straight up to her baby, and
there heard from Betty that he had come, and gone out with his violin to
the music-room.

Bent over the child, Gyp needed all her self-control--but her
self-control was becoming great. Soon, the girl would come fluttering
down that dark, narrow lane; perhaps at this very minute her fingers were
tapping at the door, and he was opening it to murmur, "No; she's back!"
Ah, then the girl would shrink! The rapid whispering--some other
meeting-place! Lips to lips, and that look on the girl's face; till she
hurried away from the shut door, in the darkness, disappointed! And he,
on that silver-and-gold divan, gnawing his moustache, his
eyes--catlike---staring at the fire! And then, perhaps, from his violin
would come one of those swaying bursts of sound, with tears in them, and
the wind in them, that had of old bewitched her! She said:

"Open the window just a little, Betty dear--it's hot."

There it was, rising, falling! Music! Why did it so move one even when,
as now, it was the voice of insult! And suddenly she thought: "He will
expect me to go out there again and play for him. But I will not, never!"

She put her baby down, went into her bedroom, and changed hastily into a
teagown for the evening