And, besides, she didn’t just immediately want to make her attempt. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. . Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us.
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