” “Clear out?” cried Hetty. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. 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. If she’s over, he probably knows all about it.
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