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. I had no curiosity of that kind. He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. Mrs. . Everything, Miss Miniver said, was “working up,” everything was “coming on”—the Higher Thought, the Simple Life, Socialism, Humanitarianism, it was all the same really. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. Stanley’s pace slackened.
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