The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. I'm always agreeable to the women, bless their kind hearts! Now! slip the purse into my hand. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature. This was in Texas. 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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