Clergymen were human. He was the junior of both his sisters, co-educated and much broken in to feminine society. He had studied alchemy and astronomy, was a capable painter, and even wrote music. Shot him, do you hear?” “Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously. This whole affair is truly my fault. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music.
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