Waymark's conductor
held a piece of paper to the flame, and lit a lamp. It was a small,
pleasantly furnished sitting-room.
"Do you play?" Waymark asked, seeing an open piano, with music upon
it.
"I only wish I could. My landlady's daughter is giving me lessons.
But I think I'm getting on. Listen to me do this exercise."
She sat down, and, with much conscientious effort, went over some
simple bars. Then she looked up at her companion and caught him
smiling.
"Well," she exclaimed, in a pet, "you must begin at the beginning in
everything, mustn't you? Come and let me hear what you can do."
"Not even so much."
"Then don't laugh at a poor girl doing her best. You have such a
queer smile too; it seems both ill-natured and good-natured at the
same time. Now wait a minute till I come back."
She went into an inner room, and closed the door behind her. In five
minutes it opened again. She appeared in a dressing gown and with
her feet in slippers. Her fine hair fell heavily about her
shoulders; in her arms she held a beautiful black cat, with white
throat and paws.
"This is my child. Don't you admire him? Shake hands, Grim."
"Why Grim?"
"It's short for Grimalkin.
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