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. Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. It dealt from floor to ceiling and end to end with the Theory of the Forms of Life; the very duster by the blackboard was there to do its share in that work, the very washers in the taps; the room was more simply concentrated in aim even than a church. " "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little.
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