He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. He made this simple classification of a large and various sex to the exclusion of all intermediate kinds; he held that the two classes had to be kept apart even in thought and remote from one another. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother.
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