Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. I care not. When he awoke it was late in the day, and raining heavily. He was—a millionaire. But tell me," he added with much anxiety, "has nothing been heard of Thames since the night of my former escape?" "Nothing whatever," answered Winifred. He was dressed immaculately in a suit of heavy Shantung silk. 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.
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