Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. "Because I knew what you wanted me for!" answered Thames firmly. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin.
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