"Such as?"

"Well, I expect you're going to be invited here to dinner beautiful soon?"

"So? I've been invited here to dinner before this."

"But another day has come. A very recent light has risen. I sometimes haven't seen it, butI've heard it. I've heard it sing."

"A light singing? Aren't you getting mixed?"

"0h, I don't know. There was Viollet-le-Duc and the rose-window of NotreDame. They took him there as a kid for a choral service, and he thoughtit was the rose itself that sang. And there was Petrarch, and the youthfulMilton--both talking about 'melodious tears'--and something of the samesort in 'The Blessed Damosel.' And----"

"A psychological catch for which there ought to be a name. Perhaps there_is_ a name."

"Well, as I say, the light rose, shone, and sang. I didn't look at it--I neversee anybody. But his voice came up here quite distinctly. It seemed good tohave a man in the home. Those everlasting childs--I hope he wasn'tbothering to sing for _them_."

"He probably was. How did it go?"

"Very well indeed."