“He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. 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. \" Now it was Michelle’s turn to laugh. “You might have given me a chance, anyway. But pathologically, he is still on the edge.
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