” They passed out on to the pavement, and the commissionaire called a hansom. Wood, at Dollis Hill —" "Let me have one," said a carpenter, who was passing by at the moment,—"Mr. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. ’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit. Sadly, the Christmas break came to an end.
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