Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. 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. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room.
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