F. “Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. 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. I mean Miss Charvill no harm.
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