” “Any place would be beautiful,” said Ann Veronica, in a low voice. I feel years younger, a man again. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. 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. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. Well, what about it?" "I accept. . To think of him as loving her would make all that different. "Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments, "what say you?—silence gives consent, eh?" Mrs. ” She looked at him for a moment with fire in her eyes. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl.
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