Part 5

“No.” Her lip waited on it--and closed. “There _was_ some one--” she spoke slowly. “It seems a queer thing to tell. It had no beginning and no end!” She waited, still looking at it.... “It was a man--an old man--that used to sit over there to the left, at a table by himself. I could see him through the curtains. Even when they were almost closed I could see him. He always sat there, and always alone.... I did not notice him at first.... I do not think any one would have noticed him--at first. He was almost ugly--or he seemed ugly.” She was smiling at her thought.... “And one day suddenly I saw him as he really was, as he was inside--very gentle and strong and wise--and not wanting to hurt any one or to let any one suffer--more than they had to. I knew, some way, if I should go up to him and speak to him, that he would understand me--and help me. I should have liked to--speak to him. Of course it is really the same as if I did.”... She seemed thinking of it. “But I didn’t. I never saw him more than a dozen times, I suppose. But I used to think about him, and it helped me. I should have trusted him anywhere--and been willing to go with him--anywhere in the world. I don’t believe he was very clever--but it rested me to think of him--just as a big, homely field rests you--and the way the music did that first night--when we knew each other-----”

After a minute she went on. “I have not seen him for a long time. He stopped coming suddenly....”