Here was another surprise for Harkness. The voice was the most beautiful that he had ever heard from man. Soft, exquisitely melodious, with an inflection in it of friendliness, courtesy and culture that was enchanting. Absolutely without affectation.
"Why, yes. Certainly," said Harkness.
He felt for his little gold matchbox, found it, produced a match and, guarding it with his hand, struck it. In the light the other's forehead suddenly sprang up again like a live thing. For an instant two of his fingers rested in Harkness's hand. They seemed to be so soft as to be quite boneless.
"Thank you. What an exquisite evening!"
"Yes," said Harkness. "This is a very beautiful place."
"Yes," said the other, "is it not? And this is incidentally the best hotel in England."
The voice was so beautiful to Harkness, who was exceedingly sensitive to sound, that his only desire was that by some means he should prolong the conversation so that he might indulge himself ii; the luxury of it.
"I have only just arrived," he said; "I came only an hour ago, and it is my first visit."
"Is that so? Then you have a great treat in store for you. This is splendid country round here, and although every one has been doing their best to spoil it there are still some lovely places. Treliss
