She thought she had hidden well from him. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. Annabel entered. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide.
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