“Thousands! Ugh! And found it a worse slavery. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. He took about five minutes. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. " "The pianist?" "Yes. " "Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" "No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet. " "What's that?" "Think it over," said McClintock, grimly. The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. "Ah!" exclaimed Jack, starting to his feet. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. The rejection caught him like a slap in the face.
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