"
It was a song that had tormented Rose before with the abysmal fatuity of
its phrases, its silly sloppy melody, and yet--this was the infuriating
thing--the way it had of getting into her, somehow, reaching bare nerves
and setting them all aquiver.
To-night it broke her down. She closed the windows, despite the
sultriness of the night, but the tune, having once got in, couldn't be
shut out. Whether she heard it or only fancied she did, didn't matter.
The words bored their way into her brain.
"Just a little love, a little kiss,
I would give you all my life for this,
As I hold you fast and bend above you ..."
It was a white night for Rose. The morning sun had been streaming into
her bedroom for an hour before she finally fell asleep. And at nine
o'clock, when she wakened, she heard the phonograph going again. It was
now on its way to Mandalay, but John McCormack was no doubt waiting in
the background. She went to the telephone and called up Galbraith,
telling him she'd come by the first train she could get.
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