You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am. 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. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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