nd she had gone; of Jimmy--that he needed
her, was worse, was dying. More than once she heard him sobbing and
wakened to the cooing of the pigeons on the window-sill. She grew thin
and sunken-eyed; took to dividing her small hoard, half of it with her,
half under the carpet, so that in case of accident all would not be
gone.

This, as it happened, was serious. One day, the sixth, she came back wet
to the skin from an all-day rain, to find that the carpet bank had been
looted. There was no clue. The stolid Hungarian, startled out of her
lethargy, protested innocence; the little dressmaker, who seemed honest
and friendly, wept in sheer sympathy. The fact remained--half the small
hoard was gone.

Two days more, a Sunday and a Monday. On Sunday Harmony played, and
Georgiev in the room below, translating into cipher a recent conference
between the Austrian Minister of War and the German Ambassador, put
aside his work and listened. She played, as once before she had played
when life seemed sad and tragic, the "Humoresque." Georgiev, hands
behind his head and eyes upturned, was back in the Pension Schwarz that
night months ago when Harmony played the "Humoresque" and Peter stooped
outside her door. The little Bulgarian sighed and dreamed.

Harmony, a little sadder, a little more forlorn each day, pursued her
hopeless quest. She ventured into the heart of the Stadt and paid a
part of her remaining money to an employment bureau, to teach English
or violin, whichever offered, or even both. After she had paid they told
her it would be difficult, almost impossible without references. She had
another narrow escape as she was leaving. She almost collided with Olga,
the chambermaid, who, having clashed for the last time with Katrina, was
seeking new employment. On another occasion she saw Marie in the crowd
and was obsessed with a longing to call to her, to ask for Peter, for
Jimmy. That meeting took the heart out of the girl. Marie was white and
weary--perhaps the boy was worse. Perhaps Peter--Her heart contracted.
But that was absurd, of course, Peter was always well and strong.

Two things occurred that week, one unexpected, the other inevitable.
The unexpected occurrence was that Monia Reiff, finding Harmony being
pressed for work, offered the girl a situation. The wage was small, but
she could live on it.

The inevitable was that she met Georgiev on the stairs without her veil.

It was the first day in the workroom. The app