I’m a soldier, you see. Wood. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. The place for reading. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears. I have come to take you home; and hereafter my word will be the law.
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