I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. ‘Open the door, fool!’ Then he had Melusine by the shoulders and was hustling her into the hackney. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. With his foodle doo! "Peace!" cried Jack.
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