” Lucy said as they walked nearer to the floodlit area of an expansive new subdivision where ground was still being broken. He walked unsteadily towards the door. I knew it. Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous.
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