Books › Blue Book v057 n02 [1933-06], 1933 › scan 14
Scan 14
Blue Book v057 n02 [1933-06], 1933
44 lines. Read by computer on 18 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.
1her experience of the night. The great dark eyes turned toward Nat as he entered. They did not seem like sightless eyes. They were warm and alive in her delicately oval face, which was touched now with healthy color.
3When Tyler introduced him, the girl smiled sweetly, and Nat took her outstretched hand, soft like her father's, with the fingers so slender and delicate and long, yet so firm and strong.
5"How do you do, Nat?" she asked, in a voice gentle as a caress.
7"How do you do—Ruth?" he answered.
9She held his hand a moment, smiling up into his face.
11"You are very tall," she said. "Almost as tall as Father. You have a nice voice, too. Father has told me all about you. I am very happy to know you."
13Nat suddenly felt a pang of regret for the rôle he must play. But he murmured his sincere pleasure. She sat on the edge of one of the big chairs, her little feet barely touching the floor. Nat thought that never had he seen a human being so exquisite, so spontaneously and naturally charming. His heart warmed to her.
15BREAKFAST was announced. It was served in a sunny room overlooking what, in the spring, would be the garden. They asked him how he liked his room, and when he replied enthusiastically, they both smiled their gratification.
17They chatted pleasantly through the meal, Tyler indulging in some fictional reminiscences of Nat's father, and their youth together. This, again, made Nat slightly uncomfortable, although he realized the wisdom of keeping his purpose from the girl. But somehow he did not like the idea of deceiving this lovely creature.
19Presently she asked him if he liked music. And he had a sudden thrill. This, after all, was the key. He assured her that while he was not a musician, he did like good music and hoped to hear her play often.
21"I shall play for you tonight," she said.
23No mention whatever was made of the events of the previous night.
25After breakfast Nat excused himself and went to his apartment to get his luggage. He packed, made a few purchases, and returned to the old house in the late afternoon.
27He did not see either Ruth or Tyler until dinner-time. They dined quietly. Afterward, at Tyler's suggestion, the three of them took a long walk in Central Park. Ruth was quick with appreciation for the sounds and smells of the night. She walked surely, easily, almost as if she could see as well as they. And her seemingly fragile body was tireless.
29When they returned to the house, Ruth announced matter-of-factly that she would play. Nat again felt that thrill of anticipation. He took a chair in the soft-lighted living-room and relaxed his body but not his mind, waiting. Tyler produced the violin and sank back in his own chair, his long fingers interlaced, his face brooding as Ruth briefly tuned the instrument.
31Then she began to play, softly, and her small glowing face, so tender and alive, became transfigured. Nat stole a look of curious awe at her. She was no longer either the lovely unspoiled child of the morning, nor the poor frightened creature of the night, but a great artist, completely absorbed in the music. She played with fingers disciplined by a lifetime of hard practice, and with her heart and her soul.
33This, Nat knew, was genius. It was an experience unique in his life, this first glimpse into the matchless artist which inhabited the girl's slender little body. He was entranced, drawn out of himself by the spell of the music.
35She played for a long time, all kinds of music, from the classics to charming Viennese waltzes, simple folk-songs, gay modern melodies. Then she began a languorous love-song…. And suddenly, in the midst of it, there was a crashing discord and the music ceased.
37JARRIED out of his mood, Nat glanced quickly at Tyler, who had leaned forward, the bones in his thin face standing out sharply. The girl stood stiffly, bow aloft, fingers still on the quivering strings. Her face, except for two vivid spots of color on her cheek-bones, was dead white. Her fingers trembled on the strings, then were quiet.
39"Murder!" she said, hoarsely. "Murder!"
41The two men sat immobile. Nat was fascinated—and chilled.
43"I can feel it more and more," the girl went on. "Black hate…. A mind churning with hate! Death…. Death…. Death! Kill all rulers—all kings. Kill Roosevelt!"
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