wonderful, simple little love-song has always—very personally and directly to each one who listened.
"...and she's a' the world to me—"
The flute had stopped entirely, and in the last pure, gentle burst of the wonderful little tone all the tiny girl's power and uncomprehending passion sent it up full and clear again and alone.
"...and she's a' the world to me—"
And in their very deep shadow and in their far—oh, very far—seclusion under the lifeboat's side, Preston discovered that he had turned to the girl beside him, and she had turned to him.
As they both recognized it, the blood mounted hot in him and beat even to his fingertips. High and clear above them the little girl's voice rang upon the last words. The eyes looking into his closed and then opened to his again.
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