She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. "What should I do here alone if I were an enemy? But, come, don't let us waste time in bandying words, when we might employ it so much more profitably. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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