9. I don’t want to hear you. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. 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. Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous. At table he carved in a gloomy but resolute manner. . “Yes,” she said at last, “it is firm and affectionate.
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