Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. “Yes, but I act older than I look. Up to dinner yesterday I did not expect to come to Canton. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him.
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This video was uploaded to needcom.in on 28-11-2023 04:04:28