I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. 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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