When Mr. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. 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. You just married her.
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