” “And you knew, of course, that we were old friends?” “Indeed!” “Lady Ferringhall, I love your sister. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Well, I don’t think that’s fair. Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably.
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