Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. It was during Martin’s Violin Concerto that she was extraordinary. But I will never—never return.
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