He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. . "You won't betray him. How men suffer for the foolish things they do!" "Ay to that. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not. That done, however, he was well aware the rest would be comparatively easy, and as he threw the brick to the ground, he exclaimed triumphantly, "The first step is taken—the main difficulty is overcome.
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