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Michelle was in sight, Lucy could hear her voice, high in the crowd, and saw her blond head bobbing among a sea of faces. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman. Then perhaps I shall send for him if he has not forgotten. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. "It's a whale of a place. . My profession has hardened me.
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