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. ‘Take this. Know that I love you, that I will always love you. You have made your public, you are already a personage. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. Go easy. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue.
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