Very likely by this time the whole truth is known. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. How can I tell you all I feel? I love you beyond measure. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement. .
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