“You’re a student, perhaps?” said the tall woman. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. ’ For the space of half a minute, Gerald continued to scowl in silent frustration. 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. Never mind. He spoke only when he saw the sing-song girl he wanted to buy.
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