” She looked at him; his face, downcast and in profile, was handsome and strong. And, if you hear any odd noise in the parlour, don't mind it. Paris was full, and it was by no means a retired spot which she had found. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. ” “Sounds good.
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