“There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. 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. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly.
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