The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. “For men have reason, women rhyme A man scores always, all the time. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. It is really cheap, you know. I've my own reasons for disliking this job.
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