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. " "You never told me what he is like," said Spurlock. I should scarcely have known you. . " "But Wild still lives," cried Wood. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. ” Then a burst of applause. The Closing Scene. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street.
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