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. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. " "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," observed Wood.
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