" "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. He threw up his hand, reeled for a moment on his feet, and collapsed upon the floor. An old woman took her in.
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