Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully. “How’s the star?” John’s father asked. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. ’ It was a wait of several minutes while Melusine chafed.
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