And when Mr. 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. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. It is nothing at all for you to worry about. The world, perhaps, will be educated out of its idea of fixed standards. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door.
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