’ ‘Don’t need you to tell me that, Prudence Sindlesham,’ barked the old man, his glance snapping at her briefly, before resuming his study of Melusine, who, to Gerald’s intense admiration, was standing before him, glaring and stiff with defiance. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. . Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill.
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