She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. ” She looked around for the voice around the Orchestra room, fumbling around with her books. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. I knew where I would go next: Florence. Never mind.
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