She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. The clock struck half-past ten. Kneebone, who was on the point of departing. I. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin.
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