He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. Goopes, she was sure was always high-browed and slow and Socratic. My friends consider it wonderfully faithful. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. In truth, she liked Gerald also.
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