Sinopsis

With a plaintive quirk of the voice the singer paused, gayly flicked the strings of the banjo, then put her hand flat upon them to stop the vibration and smiled round on her irers. The group were applauding heartily. A chorus said, "Another verse, please, Mrs. Detlor." "Oh, that's all I know, I'm afraid," was the reply. "I haven't sung it for years and years, and I should have to think too hard—no, no, believe me, I can't any more. I wish I could, really." A murmur of protest rose, but there came through the window faintly yet clearly a man's voice: