” “I wish you would use my Christian name,” he said. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. She was carefree. 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. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. You seem to want this chap out of Canton.
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