I was quite as much annoyed as you were to see Mr. Oui, dans la note. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. Surely it was a dream. "My coat!" Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. ’ Gerald sighed. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. 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. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright.
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