Out of the Past — page 62: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Out of the Past. 59 Robert’s engagement had been an early one at a soiree, ‘which he immediately left after having played his part. As he neared Mme. Blanc’s on the wide, silent street, he was startled by the deep, full voice of a violin from the windows, open to the freshness of early night, and he stopped to listen beneath them. With a man’s sublime egotism, he had never given much consideration to her playing, and he listened in bewilderment. There was a quality in its grave sad- ness which moved to tears, a quality so poignant and pleading, so sweet and caressing, that it drew him nearer to her than he had ever been drawn before. He entered the house quietly and went slowly up the stairs. The door of Mme. Blanc’s sitting-room was open, and Rose was walking back and forth playing a Bruch adagio, which is sad and unresigned at best. It sobbed from her strings with a passion of grieving which held Robert by the door against his judgment. It seemed like a death when the voice cried itself into si- lence. Crossing to her, he exclaimed: “What is it, Miss Lloyd? What hurts you so?” ‘ Nothing—nothing.” In stepping back she entered the light from the win- dow, and Robert saw that her face was wet with tears still falling. They seemed weightier than a world. CORNICLOOOKS