"I can't see him. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. " "It is," answered Wood. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. 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. Quick! Quick!" The order was only just given in time.
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