Out of the Past — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

Out of the Past. 77 neither knew what was said or whether any words lay _ between them. Jean came hesitatingly toward them, hav- ing seen that which is unmistakable in the face of a man’s friend, the sheen of the soul’s radiance, the something before which every man feels himself small. “My mother is coming to ask if you are rested, Miss Lloyd, and I am here to ask whether I can help you in any way when you are ready to play for us.” “Yes, I am quite rested, thank you—quite rested.” Robert handed her the case. She soon had been escort- ed to her place and Robert had drifted back into the crowd to a point from which he could watch her. Where had she learned the trick of loving which dis- played itself so unexpectedly in the finish of phrases, in the soft diminuendos drooping into tender melody half audible, in the rush of crescendo with which she mounted to a satisfying finish of generous sound, and there paused in full tide as though to her heart there could never be an ebb. Where had she learned it? Robert dared not ask himself. And had he dared, the moment was too full of the inexplicable to brook explanations. “IT am lost,” he sang to himself, “drowned in her. I seem to be asleep a million fathoms deep. At least, I will not cause her to seem ridiculous. Go home, you in- COMMIEOOOKS (E(0)