The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. ” Her hands fell to her side. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow.
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