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. Wood, bursting into tears, "God bless you!" Jack extended his hand towards him, and looked anxiously for Thames; but he was nowhere to be seen. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo.
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