There is no other way. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. Suddenly she had become afraid. Coffee à la Turque wasn't so bad; but a guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. A door in this house opened upon the yard. He was all alone, like herself. She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him.
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