He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. Not a moment is to be lost. She felt sharp animal teeth pierce her above her shoulder. 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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