He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. 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. But all that could be ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time before in the direction of London. That was the inconvenience of it; her head was swimming. The raising of twenty-five pounds was a task altogether beyond her powers. . They order me to get my man, and I get him. He was absolutely unable to focus his ideas.
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