Her entry, again, was curiously effective; like a beautiful thought in a
dream she moved into the hall, and into Spinrobin's life. Moreover, as
she came wholly into view in the light, he felt, as positively as though
he heard it uttered, that he knew her name complete. The first syllable
had come to him in the passageway when he saw her partly, and the feeling
of dread that "Mir--" might prove to be part of "Miranda," "Myrtle," or
some other enormity, passed instantly. These would only have been gross
and cruel misnomers. Her right name--the only one that described her
soul--must end, as it began, with M. It flashed into his mind, and at the
same moment Mr. Skale picked it off his very lips.

"Miriam," he said in deep tones, rolling the name along his mouth so as
to extract every shade of sound belonging to it, "this is Mr. Spinrobin
about whom I told you. He is coming, I hope, to help us."


VI

At first Spinrobin was only aware of the keen delight produced in him by
the manner of Skale's uttering her name, for it entered his consciousness
with a murmuring, singing sound that continued on in his thoughts like a
melody. His racing blood carried it to every portion of his body. He
heard her name, not with his ears alone but with his whole person--a
melodious, haunting phrase of music that thrilled him exquisitely. Next,
he knew that she stood close before him, shaking his hand, and looking
straight into his eyes with an expression of the most complete trust and
sympathy imaginable, and that he felt a well-nigh irresistible desire to
draw her yet closer to him and kiss her little shining face.
Thirdly--though the three impressions were as a matter of fact almost