‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. “Oh, there’s no doubt of it! Since the girls of the eighties broke bounds and sailed away on bicycles—my young days go back to the very beginnings of that —it’s been one triumphant relaxation. The sing-song girls in Hong-Kong are far handsomer. Brown engaged in the usual browbeating and complaining he reserved for sections who came in late and soloists who left tempo behind like the leftovers of a Sunday picnic.
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