“I’ve thought about it. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. Just as Jack gained the entrance, he heard a man's footstep behind him, and aware that the slightest indiscretion would betray him, he halted, uncertain what to do. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction.
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