She repeated this breathlessly. 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 would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. By the time he had reached St. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. That window there…. He did not even care for his own inheritance at this place in Wodeham Water. I’m taking no chances. “I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. She was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman.
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