While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. S. Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. The piece, in three movements, was short enough anyway. So he shut his eyes. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind.
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