" "Think not to delude me, audacious wretch," cried the carpenter. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. You are right. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this.
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