" "That's what troubles me," rejoined Ben. “This means a plunge. There was a coffee equipage on the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made up. Look at the poor victim at your feet. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely.
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