"Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned, in a plaintive tone. . The Widgetts talked with a remarkable absence of external coverings; the Palsworthys found all the meanings of life on its surfaces. His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. 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. But it was hopelessly hard to put.
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