The patient fell into a natural and refreshing sleep. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. 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. Jonathan mixed with the group, and, sure of his prey, abided his time. Hang the wench! Roding was right. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand.
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