He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. ” “Not in the least,” Anna answered calmly. Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, “forty at the ‘Unusual,’ two turns, encores voluntary, six for matinées. Oh God! pardon me. “Admirably, thank you,” Anna answered. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful.
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