It’s an emerald. But eventually Spurlock laughed. She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. . I don’t want to stop your singing. Why didn’t he die?” Anna sprang to her feet and walked restlessly up and down the room. 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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