The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. “Oh, John, please!” “You are already leaving me. I told you no good would come of it. A hansom stopped a little way off. Trenchard glanced at the document.
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