Once he chuckled aloud. "I knew it. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. The novel danger of the situation enthralled him. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. And now YOU’RE on the war-path. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. Half after six.
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