Page:Maud Howe - A Newport Aquarelle.djvu/97

 Strange creature! A European would look on you as a lunatic. And yet it is the characteristic of your race. One would almost fancy you to be like the youth in the song of Heine, who, when the beautiful maiden asks him the source of his grief, replies: 'I belong to that race of Asras who must die when they love.' But, to convince you that I have no design in 'drawing you out,' to prove that I am not plotting against your peace of mind, I shall join the Philistines, who have been clamoring for a song; will you help me in the chorus?"

Saltonstall could not sing, unfortunately, and he rather unreasonably resented the breaking up of a tête-à-tête so agreeable, so dangerous. Gladys tuned her banjo, and, a mandolin being found in the depths of Mr. Belhomme's stateroom, Larkington accompanied the music of the tinkling instrument with the softer picking of the mandolin strings. He had learned to play the instrument in Naples long ago, he said. The girl