But still she knew they were not right, and at times they became a horrible obsession as of something waiting for her round the corner. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. The floor was planked with oak, and covered with iron staples, hooks, and ringbolts, with heavy chains attached to them.
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