Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. 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. He had fallen off when trying to tie down his aluminum paint ladder. Stanley changed his key. And Suzanne, even that she has behaved to me not at all like a mother, would also not have said. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. .
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