“It looks all right,” said Capes. Lucy stood in front of the piano. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. ’ ‘Estate? But are you not obliged to do this work of the milice?’ asked Melusine, her eyes round.
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