It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. Gianfrancesco stumbled belatedly onto the beach, his feet padding wet sand. On the way he confessed. "I won't trouble you further, Jack," he remarked. Don’t ask me how. I didn’t understand before that letter. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret.
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