‘Still more would I be so if he had come himself to tell me this. ” She was silent. "I know not—and care not," replied Jack. “With your permission I should like to search the remainder of your rooms. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side.
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