There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. Either Sydney or Mr. “Now bite as hard as you can, John. The solos were revealing, sensual and moody.
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