Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels. ’ The girl nodded understandingly. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so.
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