She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. Pull yourself together now. And the jailers also retired. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. " He did not reply. 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. Panting with effort, she held her point menacingly at Gosse’s chest.
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