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“I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. ” She laughed softly to herself. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. She donned her gloves. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. “We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir.
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