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. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. “Did it seem like I was in pain to you?” She smirked. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by.
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