And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility. “For Heaven’s sake, Dunster, don’t let her out of the carriage, or hansom, or whatever she came in. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds.
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