I am here
to help--not to make things worse."
He shrugged his shoulders and said no more. In a few minutes Dick's
cheery banjo thrummed into silence and he turned round.
"Are you ready?" he said to Juliet.
She rose and came forward, tall and graceful, bearing the unmistakable
stamp of high-breeding in every delicate movement. She might have been on
the platform of a London concert-hall as she faced her audience under the
shadowing hat.
They stared at her open-mouthed, spellbound, awed by the quiet dignity of
her. And in the hush that fell before her, Juliet began to sing.
Her voice was low, highly trained, exquisitely soft. She sang an old
English ballad with a throbbing sweetness that held her hearers with its
charm. And behind her Dick leaned against the table with his banjo and
very softly accompanied her.
His face was in shadow also as he bent over the instrument. Not once
throughout the song did he look up.
When she ended, there came that involuntary pause which is the highest
tribute that can be paid by any audience, and then such a thunder of
applause as shook the building. Saltash stepped forward to hand her back
to her chair, but the men in front of her yelled so hoarse a protest
that, laughing, he retired.
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