She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. “I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him.
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