But it’s love you should’ve had when you were tiny and I didn’t give it to you. None saw, though all felt, his presence, and heard the thunder of his voice. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. I haven’t taken much account of it until now. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. it’s open.
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