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” Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. ” She looked around for the voice around the Orchestra room, fumbling around with her books. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. “Experte credo. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. Here one might live the life of golden days. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest.
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