“Well, I have said what I had to say, stumblingly and badly, and baldly. "What's the matter?" he cried. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. Spurling's sooty imp, Caliban. 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. I don’t care WHAT happens. "Yes; and I hope you'll take ample vengeance upon him," said Quilt. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her.
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