It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. 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. The boat rocked violently with the struggle. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. " "I'll tell you what I'll do," rejoined the other.
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