He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. 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. He—wanted to marry me. " "Oh, no!" Ruth protested. "What can it matter to you whether he returns or not, child," rejoined Mrs. Marvel, therefore, remained on his probation. “Why not?” “Because you are mine.
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