" "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. She seemed tense when not playing, he noted, more so than she had during the first two pieces. Recollect, he's chained to the ground by a great horse-padlock, and is never unloosed except when he comes to that hatch. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre.
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