" Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. “You look great, Lucy. “I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. I can imagine nothing more pleasant in life than to help you, because I know it would pay to help you. ” “When?” “At tea. " "I don't understand you," replied Kneebone, in some confusion.
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