’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. “I cannot say who he is,” said Ann Veronica, “but he is a married man. It will be horribly dull, and she is a very trying person. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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