A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. " "Mr. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. ” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. “Good-bye, Miss Pellissier, and success to you,” he said.
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