‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. ’ ‘True enough,’ nodded Martha sadly. " "I see. If they do, now and then, run away with a knocker, paint a sign, beat the watch, or huff a magistrate, they pay for their pastime, and that's sufficient. You get this queer irascible musician quite impossibly and unfortunately in love with a wealthy patroness, and then out of his brain comes THIS, a tapestry of glorious music, setting out love to lovers, lovers who love in spite of all that is wise and respectable and right.
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