His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. He smiled complacently. ‘I have only borrowed it. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. 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. This is my friend, Mr. “The other too if it is within my power.
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