“There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Quilt, who was an ardent lover of mischief, could not help laughing most heartily at the rueful appearance of these personages. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. ’ ‘You think it would have been better for me to stay as a nun and be killed like the Valades?’ said Melusine, brutally frank. 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.
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