‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. The black clad students streamed slowly to their positions carrying their instruments like offerings to the pilgrimage. " "You'll dance upon nothing, presently," rejoined Jonathan, brutally. He made his speech a little elaborately. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time.
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