” He pointed to Ennison, who in his turn looked across at Anna. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. Still silence everywhere. While the girl kept the patient from dwelling upon his misfortunes, whatever these were, he himself would have to keep the girl from brooding over hers. “Monsieur admires the poster?” As a rule Sir John treated such advances with cold silence. Both girls looked pale and listless.
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