Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. “I must read him when I come out. \"What about scholarships?\" \"Can't get 'em if your parents are rich. She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence.
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