I shan't let you off a farthing. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. Ah, no, I have it wrong. I loved her beyond anything in heaven or on earth—to idolatry. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. You heard her. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. It was a brief solitude, however. It is easy enough to sing these little chansons in an original way—it requires a very different sort of ability to succeed on the stage.
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