He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin.
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