The listener
while he was speaking felt so drawn towards him as to love the man
who spoke. When his voice ceased, some part of his attraction ceased.
But the moment the voice was again heard the magic of the man
returned as strong as ever.'
III
For some time during Winnie's narrative glimmerings of the
gentleman's identity had been coming to me, and what she said of the
voice seemed to be turning these glimmerings into shafts of light. I
was now in a state of the greatest impatience to verify my surmise.
But this only gave a sharper edge to my intense curiosity as to
_how_ she had been rescued by him.
'Winnie,' I said, 'you have said nothing about his appearance. Could
you describe his face?'
'Describe his face?' said Winnie. 'If I were a painter I could paint
it from memory. But who can paint a face in words?'
Then she launched into a description of the gentleman's appearance,
and gave me a specimen of that 'objective' power which used to amaze
me as a child but which I afterwards found was a speciality of the
girls of Wales.
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