If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. "Do not despair!" echoed Mrs. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Would you tell her … now?" his eyes flaming with mockery. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece.
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