I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. . " "Pray, let me have a pinch!" said Edgeworth Bess, with a captivating glance.
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