He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. Long ago. Such freedoms from such people were not to be endured. “How did you find me?” She asked. 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.
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