The music gained in volume and in beauty.
The fire burned lower.

The room was nearly dark.

The reflection was almost hidden.
Ronnie, straining his eyes, could see only the white line of the low square forehead.
He wished the eyes would lift and look at him, piercing the darkness of the darkening room.
Another log fell.

Again flames darted upwards.

Each detail in the mirror was clear once more.
The playing grew more rapid.