A thin line of red appeared in the white neck. 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. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. “You will come back, won’t you?” He nodded cheerfully. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise.
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