” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music.
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