I drew my music-stool a little back, and listened while he sang it softly through. I had never known a love-song touch me like that before. I could almost have cried out in answer, as I sat with my head turned away, listening, almost holding my breath lest I should lose a sound. When he had finished, he turned round; I did not move or speak, and he jumped up, walked to the shutters, unbarred them, and threw open the window. “I am suffocating. Oh for a Venetian balcony!” said he. “Come here, little woman.” I rose and obeyed. He threw a woollen antimacassar round my head and shoulders, and drew me to the window. “Look up there, child, at the moon through the tree-tops. Wouldn’t you like to be in Venice, listening by moonlight to those sweet songs in the very native land of the love they sing about?” “I don’t want to be anywhere but here, Mr. Rayner,” said I, smiling up at the moon very happily. “Why?” But I could not tell Mr. Rayner why. “I would give the whole world to be there at this moment with the woman I love. I could make her understand there!” I was struck by the passionate tenderness in his voice, and suddenly made up my mind to be very bold. “Then why don’t you take her there, Mr. Rayner?” I said earnestly. As I spoke, smiling at him and speaking as gently as I could, though I felt terribly frightened at my own boldness, his eyes seemed to grow darker, and his whole face lighted up in an extraordinary way. I saw my words had made an impression, so I went on eagerly, pressing nervously the hand with which he was holding mine, for I was still afraid lest my audacity should offend him. “Mr. Rayner, forgive me for speaking about this; but you spoke first, didn’t you? I have so often wondered why you didn’t take her away. It seems so hard that you, who want sympathy so much--you know you have often told me so--should have to live, as you say, a shut-up life, on account of the apathy of the woman to whom you are bound.” He seemed to drink in my words as if they contained an elixir; I could feel by his hand that he was actually trembling; and I grew more assured myself. “Now, if you were to take her away, although you might have a difficulty at first in persuading her to go, and force her, with the kind force you know how to use, to go among fresh faces and see fresh people, I believe she would come back to life again, and see how much better you are than other husbands, and love you just as much as ever. Oh, she couldn’t help it; you are so kind and so good!” Then my heart sank, for I saw I had gone too far. As I spoke, from passionately eager, he looked surprised, puzzled, and then his face clouded over with a cold frown that chilled me with fear and shame. I drew my hand out of his quickly, and stepped back into the room. He followed and took my hand again, and, when I looked up, murmuring clumsy and incoherent apologies, his face was as composed and kind as usual; but I thought he looked rather sad.