" As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. " And before she could be prevented, she lifted up the cloth, and disclosed Shotbolt. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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