Pain sliced into Gerald’s hand and his sword arm jerked. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. They stood back together and stared at it. English Library VOL. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler.
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