” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. “Hi John.
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