“My name is Anna Pellissier, sometimes called Annabel. ” He looked at her intensely, his dark eyes deepened with sleeplessness. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. " "Not in the least, Sir," replied Tom, in a drowsy tone, and with a look seeming to imply that he was too much accustomed to odd noises at night to heed them.
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