“I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. ” “Do you think so? I find my interest in that sort of thing decline and decline. ” She put her face closer to his. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in.
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