He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. “I was really interested in his stuff. I find you were excessively brave, mon pauvre. “John, we should be getting out of here. ’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice. His literary instincts began to stir.
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