“The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to please her. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. 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. Manning, in his entirely different dialect, indorsed her brother Roddy’s view of things. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. “Mind my smoking?” said Roddy.
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