“I should kill you. 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. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. She had lost it. She had seen for herself right up in the bedroom window with her binoculars when Joanie was gone shopping one night, right with her own eyes. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her.
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