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The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. She had very frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile. “Well, well, Martin. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight.
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