“Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. She turned with an effort. It loves to sit on your knee. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it.
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