John stared palely. 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. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. " "Your father did right," replied Jack, with some bitterness. "Thanks," he said, holding out a thin white hand. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. Glancing at the finger-post over the cage, which has been described as situated at the outskirts of the village, and seeing no directions to Dollis Hill, he made fresh inquiries as to where it lay, from an elderly man, who was standing with another countryman near the little prison.
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