It was his tall stance and his pale skin that drew him out of the crowd. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. Diable. Give up your lonely hours of work here. She felt like a dried-up old woman.
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