"During the whole of that time I have been a close prisoner in Newgate, whence I have only just escaped. Stanley?” “I’ve fallen out with my father. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. Then a surge of rage welled up. 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. Little by little, she stopped hating him.
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