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room as the last glow of the sunset flushed through the windows.
Suddenly Brand stirred on his stool, made an abrupt movement, then rose, and gave a loud, agonising cry. Fortune stopped playing, with a slur of notes. Harding leapt up from his chair in a dark corner and said, "Brand! . . . what's the matter?"
Brand had dropped to his knees, and was weeping, with his arms about his dead wife.
