Q. 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. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. ” “Because your nerves were exposed, that was no excuse for my touching them. "We're too wide awake for that. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory.
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