Until the last moment she was afraid. ’ A scowl crossed the lady’s face. 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 found herself struggling with a storm of tears. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. .
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