The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. Too late. Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey.
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