XXIII.

The starry-eyed girl had never stolen anything in her life. But now she did, because the music bade her do it. Her conscience told her again and again not to commit a crime, but nothing prevailed. It wasn't as if anyone would notice. They didn't belong to anyone, did they? She stooped to handle the metal object on the grass and the crumbled piece of old paper. A sudden impulse bade her play one more deciding note. She did, and then she ran off clutching her new treasures.

The End

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