He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. Muttering something to himself, he appeared to be telling upon his fingers the advantages and disadvantages of some scheme he had in contemplation. "Ay, to business," returned Jonathan, grinning, "the sooner the better. "Whatever you say—you, behind those stars there, if you are a God. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. Well, I told aunt.
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