‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. 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. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. The Magdalene. " And he raised it in his arms.
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