‘But you do not understand, mon ami. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. It has been very humiliating. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. On his return to the room, Jonathan purposely left the door of the Well Hole ajar. 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.
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