You will be my witness, Madame Joan. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. His voice when he spoke was almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said.
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