Sir John once more looked around him. "What's become of Ruth?" "Gone to her room. "Come, come, Jack," said Thames, walking up to Sheppard, and taking his hand, "have done with this. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Larry Beck did his best to the flares of her temper from rising. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors.
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