"I do," replied Thames, in the same tone; "we haven't a moment to lose. 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. Sometimes I take innocent lives. There was something in Jonathan's manner, as he issued this command, that struck the man as singular, and he afterwards recalled it.
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