Playing became a way of escape. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell. “I believe it is. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. “You’ve grown out of them. Pearls too! I mean it. ” Her words were slurred with sleep. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Kneebone's. . Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. ” She agreed. . When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it.
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