It begins with that queer piccolo solo. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. ‘It is the life I know. ” She played with her hair. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time.
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