It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. This moment couldn’t be better until the next moment comes. Along the floor ran an iron bar to which Jack's chain was attached, so that he could move along it from one end of the chamber to the other. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. 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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