He drew a little breath of relief. “Will he die?” she asked. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Even two Cabinet Ministers took to their heels, grinning insincerely. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. It had been her home for hundreds of years. I’m sorry.
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