. The wall of St. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. 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 patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again. He got up brusquely. Mr.
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