Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person. And that brought them to vegetarianism and teetotalism, and the young man in the orange tie and Mrs. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. 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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