I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. But still she knew they were not right, and at times they became a horrible obsession as of something waiting for her round the corner. A coach was also in attendance, at a little distance. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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