How dreary it all looks. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. Considering his convictions he felt that his remark was a generous one. 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. "A storm!" exclaimed the landlord. Horrible!" "Poor soul! her senses are going again," said Mr.
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