She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. She remained standing stiffly, unable even to move. Never. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. ’ ‘Even that he is, one must be practical. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome.
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