. " "I will carry you to the house, or fetch Mr. ‘Looks like it. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. . Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. “Mary!” He whispered loudly. 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. “You must not think of me as one.
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