tured his audience; now he held them tame in the
hollow of his hand. Twice he bowed, and then, in answer to the demand,
just beckoned with his finger to Michael, who rose. For a moment his
mother wished to detain him.

"You're not going to leave me, my dear, are you?" she asked anxiously.

He waited to explain to her quietly, left her, and, feeling rather
dazed, made his way round to the back and saw the open door on to the
platform confronting him. He felt that no power on earth could make him
step into the naked publicity there, but at the moment Hermann appeared
in the doorway.

"Come on, Mike," he said, laughing. "Thank the pretty ladies and
gentlemen! Lord, isn't it all a lark!"

Michael advanced with him, stared and hoped he smiled properly, though
he felt that he was nailing some hideous grimace to his face; and then
just below him he saw his mother eagerly pointing him out to a total
stranger, with gesticulation, and just behind her Sylvia looking at her,
and not at him, with such tenderness, such kindly pity. There were the
two most intimately bound into his life, the mother who wanted him, the
girl whom he wanted; and by his side was Hermann, who, as Michael always
knew, had thrown open the gates of life to him. All the rest, even
including Aunt Barbara, seemed of no significance in that moment.
Afterwards, no doubt, he would be glad they were pleased, be proud of
having pleased them; but just now, even when, for the first time in his
life, that intoxicating wine of appreciation was given him, he stood
with it bubbling and yellow in his hand, not drinking of it.

Michael had prepared the way of Sylvia's coming by telling his mother
the identity of the "nice young lady" at the concert; he had also
impressed on her the paramount importance of not saying anything with
regard to him that could possibly embarrass the nice young lady, and
when Sylvia came to tea a few days later, he was quite without any
uneasiness, while for himself he was only conscious of that thirst for
her physical presence, the desire, as he had said to Aunt Barbara, "just
to see her." Nor was there the slightest embarrassment in their meeting!
it was clear that there was not the least difficulty either for him
or her in being natural, which, as usually happens, was the complete
solution.

"That is good of you to come," he said, meeting her almost at the door.
"My mother has been looking forward to your visit. Mother dear, here is
Mis