. Periwinkle : an autobiography . en?dumb, as it were, to a man; the cornet-player ofthe band was playing his customary solo—whichthis evening proved to be Some Day. Far over the quiet sea rang out the slow sweetair; clear, true, unutterably pathetic. The€ornet-player, as he played, himself seemed tofeel every note of the music. The link of tacit sympathy—or whatever itshould be correctly termed—which existedbetween Leigh Eversleigh and me kept us bothsilent. He had folded his arms as he stood ; his€hin rested upon his breast. For myself—well,for the life of me I could have spoken no syllablej
. Periwinkle : an autobiography . en?dumb, as it were, to a man; the cornet-player ofthe band was playing his customary solo—whichthis evening proved to be Some Day. Far over the quiet sea rang out the slow sweetair; clear, true, unutterably pathetic. The€ornet-player, as he played, himself seemed tofeel every note of the music. The link of tacit sympathy—or whatever itshould be correctly termed—which existedbetween Leigh Eversleigh and me kept us bothsilent. He had folded his arms as he stood ; his€hin rested upon his breast. For myself—well,for the life of me I could have spoken no syllablejust then ; my heart was touched to aching bythe haunting pathos of the melody ; the tearsin my throat gathered thickly and rose to myburning eyes. Had there been by my side a husband whoreally loved me, and whom I truly loved, I Daryl Darkwoods Wife, 15 might have pressed my forehead to his dearshoulder and have wept outright. Did my staunch friend Leigh Eversleigh,although so silent, comprehend this ? I CHAPTER
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