A little whisper
ran through the assembly as people asked each other what song was about
to be substituted for the one on the programme, and when the sad,
appealing music of "The Haven of Memory," stole out into the room, they
smiled and nodded to one another, pleased that the great singer was
giving them the song in which they loved best to hear her.
Do you remember
Our great love's pure unfolding,
The troth you gave,
And prayed, for God's upholding,
Long and long ago?
Out of the past
A dream--and then the waking--
Comes back to me
Of love, and love's forsaking,
Ere the summer waned.
Ah! Let me dream
That still a little kindness
Dwelt in the smile
That chid my foolish blindness,
When you said good-bye.
Let me remember
When I am very lonely,
How once your love
But crowned and blessed me only,
Long and long ago.
There was no faltering now. The beautiful voice had never been more
touching in its exquisite appeal. All the unutterable sweetness and
humility and faith, the wistful memories, the passion and surrender
that love holds, dwelt in the throbbing notes.
To Max, standing a little apart, the width of the room betwixt him and
the woman singing, it seemed as though she were entreating him . . .
calling to him. . . .
The sad, tender words, poignant with regret and infinite beseeching,
clamoured against his heart, and as the last note trembled into
silence, he turned and made his way blindly out of the room.
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