His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. Too late, alas, to stop the disastrous marriage. ‘You imbecile. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room. Another picture slid across her vision. Earles strode into the waiting-room. “He has said something of the sort. 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. ” “It isn’t necessary,” they both declared breathlessly. And the fences are down for good.
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