‘Come on, Hilary. Her spirit awoke in dismay to an affection in ruins, to the immense undignified disaster that had come to them. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. This is clear over my head. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments.
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