He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. She felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. There was something very wrong.
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