He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Rhea commanded her. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. ‘And I am delighted to see that you are ready to admit that the Charvills—or rather the Valades—are indeed your affair. Mr. .
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