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. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. Yet there was nothing for her to do. ” Chapter XII THE POSTER OF “ALCIDE” On Saturday mornings there was deposited on the plate of each guest at breakfast time, a long folded paper with Mrs.
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