"I cannot sign it," returned Trenchard. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. It felt too good. ‘When you’re my age, you’ll be just as hardheaded. 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.
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