” “How the hell did you learn to play like that?” “Lots of practice, John. Earles,” she exclaimed. I saw the blood come as he rolled over. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. You were delicious in concert, by the way.
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