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. We men are like children. I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you. Winifred, you are deceived in me. And then amusement crept into Alderley’s chest and he let his pistol hand fall.
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