It keeps dangling in front of my eyes. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. ” She said, studying his face, which seemed to lose its childishness a little more with each day. I trust you will not accuse me of discourtesy if I express my pleasure that henceforth our ways will lie apart.
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