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. I will confide it to Father Spencer, who will acquaint you with it when I am no more. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. "But this is good enough to travel in, isn't it?" "To be sure it is.
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