“Why waste yourself, John?” 241 < 31 > THE CONCERT Martin Chen showed up early for the pre-concert warm-up at 5:00. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. I speak no harm of her. An electric light flashed out from the wall. Monsieur Charvill, he has not the means to choose different. Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth.
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