Boyce and Betty referred to each other rarely and casually, but enough to show me that the old feud was at an end.

And of what save one thing could the end of a feud between lovers be the beginning?
What did she know?
Knowing all, how could she be drawn back under the man's fascination?
The question maddened me.

I suffered terribly.
At last, one evening, I could bear it no longer.

She was playing Chopin.

The music grated on me.