The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. ’—he’s frightfully anti-Mendelian—having it all their own way. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me.
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