“I just came to you and put myself in your hands. I called myself Anna. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. "Jack Sheppard knows this house, I believe, Sir," observed Shotbolt. ’ ‘Quite right, Gerald,’ approved Lucilla. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. 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.
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