It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. He uttered a short laugh. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. You didn’t even put the twelve words. Ennison?” Sir John hesitated. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt.
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