"It is what no one understands, though many claim to; or perhaps better described as soulless sound," answered Winn. "I do not care for it. There is no feeling, no pulse, no heart in it."
"Then why is the world willing to pay for it?" she asked.
"The world is ready to buy anything that comes high," he answered, "and the more in proportion to its value that is asked, the quicker they will buy it. But do not ask about the world, Miss Hutton. It is not in harmony with this spot. We are out of it here."
Mona looked at him curiously. "You are a queer man," she said suddenly, "and at first I was very much afraid of you."
Winn laughed. "You need not be," he replied, "I never harmed man, woman, or child." Then as a sudden thought came to him he added, "Did you tell your mother you met me here the other day?"
"No," she replied, looking confused and coloring. It was on her lips to say that she dreaded a scolding if she did, but she restrained herself.
"It is time you were starting home," he said suddenly, looking at his watch, "and I am so sorry," and rising he added, "you must pardon me for saying so, but I think you had best mention to your mother you met me here, by accident of course. If you do not, and if she hears of it, she will think it strange." When he had assisted her down the rocky pathway and up the steep sides, the while carrying her precious violin, and they reached the brink of the chasm, he paused.
The gorge was all in shadow, the wind fallen away, and only the long sweeping ground swells caught and mirrored the red glow of the sun now almost at the horizon line. For a moment Winn looked out over the broad ocean and then turned to the girl beside him.
"Little one," he said gently, "I thank you for the confidence you have placed in me by coming here and for the pleasure you have given me. I shall never forget it. There are two favors I want you to grant me, the first to let me call you Mona, the next to come here some day again and play for me. Will you?"
"I will unless mother forbids," she answered simply.