" At this moment Charcam entered the room. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. It seems to me very silly. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. I knew where I would go next: Florence. ’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. 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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