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His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. Another horn now resounded from the further extremity of the thoroughfare; this was answered by a third; and presently a fourth, and more remote blast, took up the note of alarm. "Took a great fancy to you. Hill,” she said graciously. At length, when he saw no escape from the inevitable, he took the four title pages from the manuscripts and typed new ones, substituting Taber for Spurlock. She had agonized over it for weeks. Clothes. 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. Yet an indiscriminating, wrong-headed world gave such fellows all sorts of distinctions. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. He meditated, and began a new paragraph. Her lips were dry and cracked.
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