It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. "Come along, my sly shaver. Totally disregarding the pain, he picked up the nail, and reserved it for future use. 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. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes.
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