“Splendid it must be to be a composer. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. ‘But you know. But once I started, Forever Fifteen seemed to fly out of me like a bat out of Hell, virtually writing itself. She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. He'd never forgive you.
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