A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. Even WITH the Censorship of Plays there’s hardly a decent thing to which a man can take his wife and daughters, a creeping taint of suggestion everywhere. One of them was a stout square-built man, with a singularly swarthy complexion, and harsh forbidding features. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. . He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. ‘André? Que dit-il?’ ‘My wife does not understand,’ said the fellow, frowning deeply. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. “So I see that you have become content with your hardscrabble existence, your week-to-week survival, your Martin Chen!” “Who?” “Your limp-wristed lover!” “Um. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. "Always remember the fact.
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