“And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right. Certainly as soon as I have found my right place at Remenham House, I must find out everything. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. And I have seen work by his pupils myself that struck me as being—well, next door to shameful. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. . She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it.
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