But such is the perversity of the human that frequently thereafter he purposely crooked the part in his hair, to give her the excuse to fetch the comb. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. "To-night you shall be my wedded wife. ” She growled. 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. “I don’t want to take up your time. And since then, he has openly avowed his determination of cutting his master's throat on the slightest inkling of treachery. It is in the lower cupboard.
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