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 dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. “I suppose Paris is very, very distracting. This was done, and Austin returned with a crest-fallen look to the table. Here you only waste your time. Hurry. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit.
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