She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. The great door of the Stone Hall was thrown open, and the sheriffs, preceded by the javelin-men, entered the room. 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. Kneebone. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself.
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