The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. . " "There it is;" replied the other, tossing him the glove. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. . ‘No!’ Melusine snapped as he tugged at the thing.
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