Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. 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 had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. The thought of beauty became an obsession. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. The first peg was torture. That's the job.
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