Holliwell had taken the pipe from between his teeth, had straightened

up. Her deep voice, the slight swinging of her body to the rhythm she

had unconsciously given to her lines, the strange glow in her eyes ...

Holliwell wondered why these things, this brief, sing-song recitation,

had given a light thrill to the surface of his skin, had sent a

tingling to his fingertips. He was the first person to wonder at that

effect of Joan's cadenced music. "The valley of the shadow--" she had

missed a familiar phrase and added value to a too often repeated line.

"Joan! Joan!" said the "sin-buster," an exclamation drawn from him on

a deep breath, "what an extraordinary girl you are! What a marvelous

woman you are going to be!"

Joan looked at him in a silence of pure astonishment and that was the

end of their real talk.




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