She finished the olive and looked up. " "I know a man…. But we smirk a little, I’m afraid, habitually when we talk to you. Do not disquiet yourself. She donned her gloves. 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 thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. ” And then he flashed his whole conception of the relations of men and women upon her in one astonishing question. "I see you don't know him as well as you pretend. But we can’t help noticing.
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