" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. A thousand eager assistants pressed behind him. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. She delighted in frustrating him. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls.
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