Madame, do not destroy him." Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a voice.

It is not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone.

It is something indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we are willing to follow wherever it leads.

Such a voice Maurice possessed, though he was totally ignorant of its power.

But Madame, as she listened, felt its magic influence, and for a moment the spell rendered her mute.
"Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed.
Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax.