All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. "You know this is a pet project. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. 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. Norris entered the room, followed by Father Spencer. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. Maggot. ” She said.
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