As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. Set the boy free. So I dare say I was christened Jack. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. The inn was a military haunt. 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. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. ” She looked up at him, and found he was watching her closely. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. " CHAPTER VI.
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