\" She opened the front door with her keys, stepping inside. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. The streets were full of colour. Thank goodness you’ll understand. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. I'm a bit daffy about music. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. "Let us fly from this frightful place.
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