Go to her. The Iron Bar. To reach it would be a most difficult undertaking. He wanted her named Mary. 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. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. The word of a Chinaman; he had given it, so he must abide. ” She turned and fitted the latchkey into the door. We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home.
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